


A World Without Lois Lane

by Jade4813



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-20
Updated: 2007-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 86,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28345701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade4813/pseuds/Jade4813
Summary: What would the world, and Clark Kent, have been without Lois Lane? She's about to find out. Clois.Originally posted on ff.net.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Kudos: 5





	1. Prologue

_"Came but for friendship, and took away love."  
-Thomas Moore_

_General Sam Lane  
and  
Mrs. Jonathan Kent  
request the honor of your presence  
at the marriage of their children  
Lois Joanne Lane  
and  
Clark Kent  
on Saturday, the twenty-fourth of October  
Two thousand and twelve  
at two o'clock in the afternoon  
Kent Farm  
Smallville, Kansas_

Lois smiled to herself as she slipped the invitation back into its envelope and tucked it inside of the binder she had on the table in front of her. She didn't know why she kept pulling it out and looking over it, except to constantly reaffirm that this all wasn't a dream. She really was going to marry Clark in just a week.

With a small shake of her head, Lois tried to focus her attention on the purpose of her impromptu coffee break at the Talon. She'd spent the better part of her morning getting in touch with the various vendors for the ceremony, making sure everything was going to plan, and now she wanted to glance over her list one more time before returning to the Kent Farm. She had to hurry if she was going to arrive with enough time to help Mrs. Kent finish preparing for the party she was throwing that evening in honor of the upcoming nuptials.

Glancing quickly at her watch, Lois flipped the binder open to the list and mentally ticked off the items. Her dress had been dropped off for the final round of alterations and cleaning. She would have one more opportunity to try it on and make sure everything was perfect before she picked it up the day before the ceremony. Her flowers and bouquets would be ready in time, and the photographer assured her that he had everything covered.

At this point, the only thing that seemed like it might go wrong on their wedding day would be for Clark to get called away on an emergency. Though she hoped it wouldn't be necessary, she had prepared for such an eventuality. He had been put in charge of the rings so he would have a ready excuse, should he be forced to arrive late to the ceremony or make a hasty departure due to unforeseen circumstances. After all, no wedding could take place without the requisite rings. Though she hoped such precautions wouldn't be necessary, she knew from experience that, when it came to planning events around Clark's alter-ego, it always paid to be extra cautious.

With a self-satisfied smile, Lois snapped her binder closed and drained the last dregs of her coffee. She really had to get going. There were a number of things she needed to do before the party began, and the decorations Mrs. Kent had requested Lois pick up from the Talon's storage space were currently sitting in the passenger seat of Lois's car.

She was about halfway to the Kent farm when her cell phone rang, and she smiled when she heard Clark's voice on the other end. "Hey, handsome. I'm on my way back now. How's everything out there?"

"Well, Mom's been baking all afternoon, and I've been trying to stay out of her way. I've missed you today. It's amazing how quiet a house is without you in it, you know."

Lois snorted with laughter. "I like to keep you on your toes. And anyway, I would have thought you'd embrace the chance for some peace and quiet."

Sounding amused, he said, "So did I. I guess I've just gotten used to having never a dull moment, with you around. When was the last time I told you how much I love you, exactly?"

"Oh, it's been at least three hours," she replied with a grin.

She heard his exaggerated sigh over the line before he said in a remorseful tone "Then I'm definitely slipping."

Pretending to be disappointed in him, she said, "Hm. Yes, well, you'll have to work on that. Anyway, I'm only about ten minutes away, so I think you'll – " Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of something standing by the road up ahead. It looked like an older man dressed entirely in white, but his image was unclear, as if seen through the haze of a heat wave. As her Mustang approached and she turned her head to get a better look at him, however, his image didn't sharpen.

Lois never would be able to figure out why she suddenly felt cold dread settle in the pit of her stomach. There was nothing particularly threatening about his demeanor, and even the apparent haziness could have a rational explanation. He seemed like a perfectly harmless old man, standing by the side of the road, watching her car pass by. But still, something about him scared her, and she wanted to get away as fast as she could.

Punching the gas pedal hard as she drove by him, Lois dropped the cell phone on her lap, heedless of Clark on the other end of the line as he said her name. Glancing in her rearview mirror to see if the man was still there, she watched as he extended a hand in her direction, and her dread intensified as she turned her attention back on the road. She was only a few minutes away from the Kent Farm. If she could only get there, she just knew everything would be okay.

She wasn't going to make it. She knew it the moment the bright light spilled over the horizon and rushed towards her. Crying out in alarm, she changed tactics. Yanking on the emergency brake, she took her foot off the gas, cut the wheel sharply to the left, and rode the skid as her car fishtailed and swung around with its back tires screeching. Once it had turned almost an entire one hundred and eighty degrees, she released the emergency brake, slammed on the gas once more, and turned the wheel in the opposite direction to correct the skid as the car shot forward. Lois floored the gas pedal, hoping to put some distance between her car and the light spilling onto the roadway. She didn't know what the light was coming from or what kind of danger it might pose, but she somehow knew she didn't want it to reach her.

She almost made it. Almost. Unfortunately, even with her expert driving, she just wasn't fast enough. She'd only gotten about thirty yards before the light swept over her vehicle. When her engine suddenly died, Lois slammed on the brakes and tried to safely pull the car over to the side of the road.

"Clark!" she cried out in terror once more as she threw her arm across her eyes, temporarily blinded by the intensity of the white light as it washed over her body.


	2. Arrival

Lois didn't know what she'd expected when she saw that bright light headed towards her, but she'd had enough experiences in Smallville to know that anything was possible. When her eyes fluttered open a minute or so later, however, she was almost stunned to see that everything looked exactly the same. Breathing heavily, she looked down at her hands and then took stock of the rest of her body. She seemed perfectly fine, if a little shaken up. As she breathed a huge sigh of relief, she chuckled to herself. In retrospect, that foreboding feeling she had felt in the pit of her stomach seemed a bit silly. Sure, the light had been bright, but there were a number of perfectly innocuous explanations for what might have caused it. And that man standing by the side of the road had been just that; she almost felt bad for speeding past him. No doubt his car had simply broken down somewhere and he was on his way to town to get help.

Still chuckling, Lois shook her head softly and turned the key to restart the car. Nothing happened. Frowning, she tried again. Absolutely nothing. With a muttered curse, she picked up her phone to call the Kents, but it too seemed to be dead. She scowled at the completely dead screen. Well, this was just perfect. Martha was expecting her any minute now, her car wouldn't start, and she couldn't even call to say she'd been delayed. For a moment, Lois gazed up into the sky, halfway expecting to see Clark hovering above her vehicle. She thought she'd called out his name, but maybe she hadn't actually done so. She certainly didn't want to call for him now, not when she was so close to her destination and still feeling a bit abashed over what had clearly been an unreasonable alarm.

With a resigned sigh, Lois got out of the car and gazed in the direction of the Kent Farm. She wasn't that far away; she could run the short distance easily. Before she set off, however, she grabbed her purse and the supplies for the party and threw them in the trunk. She knew the incidences of people breaking into cars in Smallville were few and far between, but she was still too much of a city girl at heart to leave her belongings unprotected. Thankful she'd had the foresight this morning to wear tennis shoes, Lois set off at an easy jog. Clark had better not be taking up the shower when she arrived back at the farm, or she'd be inclined to join him. And then they'd never get to the party on time.

Fifteen or twenty minutes later, Lois finally reached her destination. Breathing heavily, she wished she'd have taken the time to warm up before setting off. Before she hit the porch, however, she saw Mrs. Kent step out of the barn and head towards the house.

"Hey, Mrs. Kent!" she called, still panting slightly, as she approached the older woman. "Sorry I'm late. You'll never believe what happened out my way out here. Did you see that bright light in the sky a little while ago?"

Mrs. Kent turned to look at her as she spoke, but, instead of the warm greeting she'd been expecting, Lois got a blank look. "I'm sorry?" Martha looked confused. Maybe the light hadn't been visible from here.

Lois shook her head. Now probably wasn't the best time to go into it. "It was…you know what? Never mind. It's a long story, but the punchline is that my car suddenly died on me; I'm lucky I didn't crash. Anyway, my cell phone's dead too, which is why I couldn't call. It's not that big of a deal, but the stuff I picked up for you today is in the trunk. Is Clark around? I thought maybe he could go get the car and bring it back here; I can call a mechanic after the party."

Martha shook her head slowly. "I'm afraid I don't understand. What party?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion, Lois looked closely at Mrs. Kent. "The party! The party you've been planning for weeks now! You know, I helped you plan it, so it's not like you can change your mind now and make it a surprise," she said in a slightly teasing manner.

Mrs. Kent shook her head slowly. "I still don't know what you're talking about. I haven't been planning anything, and I've never seen you before in my life. I don't mean to be rude, but I think you may be confused. Now, if you want to go inside with me, I can call someone to get your car towed, and then I think maybe you should go to the hospital. If you were in an accident, you could have hit your head…"

"Hit my…?" she repeated in disbelief as he frustration grew. What the hell was going on here? "Okay, is this supposed to be a joke? Because I have to tell you, it isn't particularly funny." She was starting to really get worried; it wasn't like Mrs. Kent to pull this kind of prank. Plus, the look of confusion on the other woman's face was either genuine, or Martha was a better actress than Lois had ever realized.

Could the bright light have caused this? Mrs. Kent hadn't seemed to know what Lois was talking about when she mentioned it, but, then again, if the light had somehow wiped Martha's memory, she wouldn't have. She frowned, trying to puzzle it out. But Lois had definitely been struck by the light; she'd seen it wash over her car. If that light was the source of this amnesia – which is what this had to be – then why wasn't Lois's memory affected? And how would she be able to remember what she'd forgotten if she'd forgotten it?

Okay, that very idea made her head hurt, and right now, that wasn't important.

"Look, Mrs. Kent, maybe you were right; we should go to the hospital. You know, I have a little experience with people who have amnesia and…"

"Mom? Is everything okay?" Lois smiled in relief at the familiar voice. She hadn't heard him step onto the front porch, but he was now leaning over the rail as he called down to them.

"I'm fine, honey, but I this young lady has been in an accident. She seems confused, so I'm going to take her to the hospital." Mrs. Kent moved towards the house, and Lois followed her so she could move closer to Clark. She had to talk to him about the bright light and its effects on his mother's memory.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Clark said as he looked at Lois in concern. "Are you okay, Miss?"

"I'm…wait. What? Miss?" Lois parroted. Oh, this was just great. First her future mother-in-law seemed to have forgotten her existence, and now her fiancé had been struck by the same amnesia? Things were quickly going from bad to worse.

Trying desperately not to either panic or scream in frustration, Lois said slowly, "Lane. Lois Lane. Ring any bells?" Clark still seemed confused, so she said, "Okay, look. I know this is going to be hard for you to believe, but trust me when I say there's been some sort of accident. There was a bright white light in the sky, and I think it's affected your memory. Now, I'm going to take your mom to the hospital to have her checked out, and when I get back, we can figure out what happened."

"Miss Lane, I think –"

She interrupted him, her voice rising. "Oh, for crying out loud, Clark, I'm your –"

"Is everything okay out here? Miss, is there anything we can help you with?" Someone spoke from behind Lois.

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew that voice, and it simply wasn't possible that she was hearing it now. Turning very slowly, she caught sight of the man behind her and felt all the blood drain from her face. "Hey, Mr. Kent," she said weakly.


	3. Ghosts

The shock she felt must have been obvious on her face, because Mr. Kent stepped forward suddenly and grabbed her by the arm to steady her. "Miss? Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down."

"I-I'm okay," Lois said weakly, but she allowed him to lead her to the porch, where she lowered herself slowly onto one of the steps. With shaking fingers, she rubbed her forehead and concentrated on taking deep, measured breaths so she didn't hyperventilate.

Jonathan's hand had felt very solid on her arm, so he wasn't a delusion. At least, Lois didn't think he was. But maybe delusions did always feel real; otherwise, why would anybody believe in them? Okay, now her mind seemed to be wandering off the point.

Of course, she'd had enough experience in Smallville to know that anything was possible. Squeezing her eyes shut, Lois tried to think of another explanation for what she'd seen. She couldn't be delusional; she refused to believe she'd lost her mind. Maybe that light had somehow caused her to believe that Jonathan Kent had died of a heart attack several years ago.

But, then again, if she'd imagined or dreamt his death, did she imagine anything else? Everything else? She gasped and looked suddenly at her left hand.

On the third finger of that hand, she saw an engagement ring. Her engagement ring. Very familiar. Very real. No matter how crazy the afternoon had suddenly become, it was a comfort to know that she hadn't imagined her relationship with Clark. She may have found herself suddenly in the midst of a Smallvillian Twilight Zone and Clark may be looking at her as if he'd never seen her before in her life, but she at least knew that the memories she carried of her relationship with him weren't imagined. They loved each other, and as long as she knew that was true, they could overcome anything else.

So, by her logic, if she wasn't imagining Jonathan Kent standing in front of her, and she was certain she hadn't imagined his death, she had a bit of a paradox to deal with. There had to be an explanation. She knew that a person (so to speak) going under the name of Dr. Fine had once taken on Jonathan's form shortly after the man's death, but he had long ago ceased being a threat. Perhaps there was someone else with the same ability. What possible advantage they'd gain from impersonating Mr. Kent currently eluded her, but Lois was more than willing to get to the bottom of it. She had loved Mr. Kent as if he were a member of her own family – thinking about his death hurt even now, and it was all she could do not to jump to her feet and clutch him as if he would disappear at any second. She wanted to shout her joy at seeing him once again. But this wasn't the man she'd loved as a father, and her hand shook with sudden rage at the thought of someone manipulating the emotions of those who had cared about him or desecrating Jonathan Kent's memory in any way.

As she sat lost in thought, Lois felt someone come up beside her and she heard Mrs. Kent say softly, "Here. I brought you some water. Sip it slowly." Lois took the cup offered with a grateful smile.

"I'm okay," she said finally as she drank some water and pulled herself out of her reverie. "Thank you. I was just…it must have been the heat. I'm fine now." At the last moment, she changed her mind about confronting the fake Jonathan Kent. If someone did have the ability to impersonate the deceased Mr. Kent and, further, had the capacity to use some means to make Martha and Clark believe there was nothing unusual about his presence, there was every possibility that he could be dangerous – not only to Mrs. Kent but potentially to Clark. Anyone could have such an alarming effect on the person who was secretly Superman was not to be treated lightly.

"I don't need to go to a doctor," she continued, as she was certain Martha was on the verge of offering once again to escort her to the hospital. "I wasn't really in an accident. My car just died. I'm fine. Really."

"We can call a tow truck for your car. Do you need us to take you anywhere, Miss…?" Clark asked.

"Lane. Lois Lane. You know me, all of you have known me for years!" They looked ready to argue, so she said in resignation, "No, I know. You don't remember. Look, can we call Chloe? I don't know what's going on here, but if anyone can help figure it out, it's her."

The Kents exchanged another look, and then Clark said, "Okay, why don't you come inside, and we'll give her a call? Do you have her number?"

Lois stood to follow him into the house, but at this question, she stumbled, causing Mrs. Kent behind her to almost trip. "Do I have her…? Of course I have her number! So do you! It's Chloe, for crying out loud!" He gave her a blank look over his shoulder as they walked into the kitchen, so she continued, "Chloe Sullivan? Your best friend since junior high?"

Turning to Lois, Clark said, "I'm sorry. I really have no idea who you're talking about. Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital?"

"No!" she cried, losing her temper. "I'm not sick, and I'm not hurt! The problem isn't me; it's you! All of you!" She turned on the entire family. She didn't mean to be so confrontational, especially since she'd decided it would be best exercise caution until she figured out what was going on, but this was just getting to be too much for her to handle.

"Look, Miss Lane. That's a pretty bold accusation you're making there," Mr. Kent began, but Mrs. Kent cut him off as she said his name softly with a small shake of her head. Clearly, she still believed Lois was suffering from some sort of head injury. Or she thought Lois was perhaps not in her right mind. Either way, she clearly pitied the distraught girl and didn't want to upset her more than she already was.

"We can call your friend. Chloe, was it? Maybe she can help us straighten this out," Mrs. Kent said in a placating tone, but the look on her face made it clear that she really hoped Chloe could assist the Kents in getting Lois the help she needed.

Lois nodded and rubbed her forehead; she was getting a killer headache. She sighed, rattled off Chloe's phone number, and sank into a chair at the kitchen table as she waited while Mr. Kent made the call. She couldn't wait for Chloe to arrive, and with any luck, she would do so soon. Since she'd been invited to the party that evening, she was probably on her way already.

Jonathan had turned away from Lois and he was speaking softly, so she didn't know what was being said. For a moment, she got the almost uncontrollable urge to let out a brief, completely inappropriate bark of laughter. Considering that Chloe knew Jonathan to be dead, Lois hoped the surprise of hearing his voice didn't cause her to crash the car.

He wasn't on the phone long before he turned back to the group. "There's nobody named Chloe at that number," he said, looking at Lois with a mixture of concern, pity, and lingering suspicion.

Now her desire to laugh became an urge to cry instead, so she put her head in her hands and took a few deep breaths to regain control. She just didn't understand what was happening. An hour ago, life had been as close to perfect as it was likely to ever get, and now…

"It's okay, Miss Lane," Clark said comfortingly from beside her. "We'll figure this out."

"Lois," the woman in question moaned into her hands. "At least call me Lois."

Martha interjected, "Clark is right, Lois; we can call information for Chloe's number, and I'm sure things will start to make more sense when she gets here. What's her last name?"

"Sullivan," Lois said firmly as she lowered her hands. She refused to lose control of herself. She looked at Clark out of the corner of her eye as she spoke, but the look of concern on his face almost made her break her resolve. Still, she took comfort in reminding herself that they could get through almost anything if they worked together.

"And she lives here in town?" Mr. Kent asked as he picked up the phone.

"No, she moved to Metropolis after high school," Lois answered in resignation.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group as they waited for Jonathan to get Chloe's number from information. Lois began playing with her engagement ring again as she tried to quell the fear that tightened the back of her throat and made her want to scream. What was going on here? She comforted herself with the reminder that, if anyone could figure out a way to get everyone back to the way they were, it was Chloe.

"What about your fiancé?" The question, coming from Clark, made her jump.

"What?" she breathed, turning towards him.

He nodded towards the ring she was twisting anxiously around her finger. "Your fiancé," he repeated slowly. "Do you want us to give him a call?"

Lois looked down at her hand again and swallowed heavily. She didn't know if she wanted to grab on to Clark and plead with him to remember her or throttle him for forgetting. However, considering how everyone already thought she was crazy, she decided now would not be the best time to mention the true nature of her relationship with Clark.

"Uh…no," she said finally. "No, there's really no…I can't call him right now." Though she tried to hide her distress, she couldn't quite keep the sadness from her voice as she met Clark's eyes again.

Sitting next to her, he reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "Hey, it's going to be okay. We'll figure this out."

Throwing him a shaky smile, Lois whispered, "I don't –"

Before she could continue, Jonathan turned and looked at Lois in deep suspicion. "Really? Well, thank you. Yes, we'll see you soon," he said into the receiver and hung up the phone.

"Did you get a hold of Chloe?" Lois and Mrs. Kent asked together.

"Yes, she's on her way. But there seems to be a problem." Mr. Kent paused, but he never took his eyes off of Lois. "According to Chloe, Lois Lane is dead."


	4. Revelation

The room fell silent in response to Jonathan Kent's statement. Lois stared at him, mouth agape, and then let out a shout of disbelieving laughter. If that wasn't the ultimate of ironies: Mr. Kent telling her that she should be dead. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

Jonathan leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at her. "Chloe was understandably confused when I told her Lois Lane was at our house and needed her help. According to her, her cousin went missing at the age of sixteen and has been presumed dead for years now."

"No!" Lois cried as she jumped to her feet and slammed her hands down on the table. "That's insane! Look at me! I'm standing right in front of you! I don't know why Chloe told you I was dead, and I don't know what's going on here, but –"

"And we have only your word that you are who you say you are! You claim to know us all, but I've never seen you before in my life – and I'm pretty sure my wife and son would say the same! Don't you think it makes more sense to believe that you are the one who's confused than to think something has happened to the rest of us?" Mr. Kent demanded heatedly.

Sitting down heavily, Lois considered his words. Of course it was more logical to assume that one person was suffering from delusions than to argue that four other people were, but just because it was more logical didn't mean it wasn't wrong.

"Yes," she spoke finally in a dull, flat tone. "Yes, it makes more sense. I know this must be hard to believe." As she spoke, she leaned pleadingly towards Mr. Kent. "I don't know how to explain it either. I don't know why Chloe thinks I'm dead or why none of you remember me. Trust me, I wish I did. But I am Lois Lane, and I'm –" She paused and looked at Clark, who had an inscrutable expression on his face. "I've been friends with Clark for years."

"Can you prove it?" Clark asked suddenly, causing her to turn in his direction. "I mean…since even you agree that what you're saying is hard to believe?"

She looked around the group for a moment and then stared down at her hands as she thought about his question. How could she prove that she knew them when they had no recollection of anything they'd ever done together or any conversation they'd shared?

There was only one way she could think of to prove it to them, but she hated to use it. Still, there weren't many other options available to her. She only hoped her confession wouldn't be counter-productive. If they got too freaked out, they definitely wouldn't listen to a word she said. On second thought, she should probably talk to Clark alone. She had definite reservations about Mr. Kent, and she didn't want to overly alarm Mrs. Kent.

"There is something, but…could I talk to Clark about it alone, please? It's…private," she finally managed to say and then held her breath as she waited for them to respond. Mr. Kent was still looking at her with open suspicion, Mrs. Kent in open concern, and Clark…well, for once, she had no idea what Clark was thinking.

The Kents exchanged looks, but finally Jonathan and Martha reluctantly agreed and stood to leave. "We have some work to do in the barn, anyway, but we'll hear you if you call for us. In case you need anything." Mr. Kent said, throwing a meaningful look at Lois as he threw open the back door. She barely refrained from openly scoffing at his words. Clark was easily twice her size and could bench press a semi. What did Mr. Kent think she was going to be able to do? Somehow, however, she managed to maintain her composure until she was alone with her fiancé.

Turning her attention to Clark, she saw that he was looking at her expectantly. She tried to think of the best way to break the news to him, but there didn't seem to be many options. She might as well just spit it out. "I know about you," she said finally.

"Okay…what exactly is it that you think you know about me?" he asked as he pulled away from her slightly.

Holding his gaze steadily, she replied, "Everything." She knew she'd have to choose her next words very carefully; it was crucial that he know his secret was safe with her, whether he remembered her or not.

"Clark, I know you're actually from the planet Krypton and that your biological parents – Jor-El and Lara – sent you here to save you before your planet was destroyed. I know you arrived in a meteor shower that hit Smallville in 1989. Mr. and Mrs. Kent found you in Shuster's Field after your ship landed, and they took you home."

She continued talking, never once taking her eyes off of his. Once she'd started, she found it hard to stop, so she told him everything. Well, nearly everything, at any rate. She tried to avoid talking about specific events, since his memories were clearly fuzzy. Or, more accurately, non-existent.

Lois talked for what felt like an hour. Every fact she knew of his life, from his birth to the discovery of each of his powers, she dredged from her memory. At long last, her monologue ended and she waited for Clark's reaction. She'd seen the fear in his eyes when she'd first started to talk about Krypton, but that had long since given way to suspicion and then amazement. Now he was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face, as if he didn't know quite what to make of everything she'd told him.

"How do you know about…all of that?" he finally asked in a choked voice.

Shrugging a shoulder, Lois wrapped her hands around her mug and said, "I told you…you may not remember me, but we've been friends for a long time. Best friends, actually. We tell each other pretty much everything." She bit her lower lip and then finished, "And now that I hope I've convinced you I'm not crazy, I need your help. We have to figure out what happened here. We have to get everyone's memories back before…We just have to get them back."

Clark sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Lois, but I don't know that I can help you." When she looked at him in confusion, he continued, "You see, I'm not what you think I am." Lois couldn't believe it. After everything she'd told him, how could he pretend that she didn't know him? She opened her mouth to demand an answer, but he cut her off. "No, you don't understand. Just…well, look."

As she watched, Clark bent over and began to pull on the left pant leg to his jeans. After struggling with the unyielding fabric for a few moments, he finally managed to pull it up enough to reveal his knee, and what Lois saw made her lurch to her feet with a gasp of disbelief.

"What…what is that?" she finally managed to choke out. A long, vicious scar stretched from beneath the fabric of his drawn-up jeans and curved across his leg, just above the knee.

"I was in a bad car accident a few years ago and injured my leg. Lois, I used to be able to do all of those things you say…or most of them, at least…but that was a long time ago. Now I limp, my knee aches every time it rains, and my leg threatens to go out on me any time I even think about carrying anything really heavy. I'm just not the hero you seem to think I am."

"No," Lois breathed as she stared at his leg, transfixed by the sight until he pulled his pant leg down to cover the scar once more. "No, it can't be true."

"It is," he assured her, though he looked at her sadly as he did so. He was about to say more, but she couldn't take it any longer. This was just too much. Closing her eyes tightly, she turned away from him. The man in front of her had to be an imposter. He had to be. There was no other explanation for it; that scar was clearly a few years old, and Clark had flown with her in his arms just the night before.

But still, even as she reached this conclusion, Lois grew terrified that the situation was much worse than an amnesia epidemic or even an imposter taking on the role of her fiancé. For the first time, she wondered if the mystery she'd inadvertently stumbled (or, rather, unwillingly been dragged) into would be one that she might not be able to solve.

When the acrid taste of fear filled her mouth, Lois reacted as she always did when this particular weakness struck. She refused to give into it and went on the offense instead. Clark clearly wasn't expecting her sudden shift of mood; the look of surprise on his face was almost comical when, without even stopping to ponder her actions, she whirled around and slapped him hard across the face. His head jerked to the right, and the imprint of her hand showed up bright red on his cheek. When he turned to look at her again, a shocked moment of silence passed between them.

"When I find out what you've done to him…if I found out that you've harmed so much as a hair on Clark Kent's head…I swear, they won't be able to identify the dental records when I get through with you." Though her voice was soft as she spoke, she didn't even blink as she delivered this promise, and she could tell by the look on his face that he'd believed her.

The moment stretched between them, only finally broken at the sound of the front door slamming shut as someone came storming in. "Okay, I don't know who you are, but you have some nerve pretending to be –" she heard Chloe demand as she stormed into the kitchen, but the irate woman cut off when she saw Lois standing by the kitchen table, still staring at Clark. A long moment stretched between the two women as they regarded each other in wide-eyed amazement. Finally, Chloe asked in a shocked whisper, "Lois…is that really you?"

"Oh my God, Chloe," Lois replied numbly as she sank once more onto one of the kitchen chairs. She was suddenly feeling light-headed, and a little hyperventilation sounded appealing right about now. "What have you done to your hair?" When she'd last seen her cousin, not two days before, Chloe's blond tresses were cut short in layers that fell no further than her shoulders. Now her long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back.

"What's happened to me?" Lois finally asked, almost whimpering as she looked from Chloe to Clark.


	5. Lost

Clark sat at the table and watched as the two women slowly came to terms with the reality before them. When the blonde newcomer suddenly started to cry as she clutched an obviously still-stunned Lois and pulled her into a tight hug, Clark decided that now would be a good time to allow the two of them some privacy. As he jumped to his feet, he mumbled something incoherent about chores that needed done in the barn before he all but fled the kitchen.

Once he'd put the emotional scene safely behind him, Clark slowed and shoved his hands in his pockets as he contemplated the events of the last couple hours. Was it possible, what Lois had said? It seemed insane, this idea that a woman he'd never met before knew them all. Insane or not, though, it seemed to be true. She knew so much about him, and the things she didn't know were as intriguing as the things she did.

Unlike his father, who was always inclined to err on the side of being overprotective of the secrets to his son's past, Clark didn't believe Lois posed a threat. For one thing, there wasn't a secret to keep any longer. Even if she did tell someone all the things she knew about him, it wouldn't matter. She could shout it from the rooftops, and Clark doubted that anyone would take her seriously. After all, everyone in town knew well how Clark's accident had lamed him; nobody now would believe that there had ever been a time when he could have walked away from what had happened without a scratch. That he could have once bent a steel bar in his bare hands. That he could have set fire to a bale of hay by simply staring at it. No, to the other residents of Smallville, he was simply 'that poor, sweet Kent boy', the one who helped his parents out with chores and would no doubt follow in his father's footsteps and inherit the farm one day.

But Clark remembered. He'd turned his back on that part of his life a long time ago, and he couldn't imagine what his life would be like now if he hadn't done so. He didn't want that life back – the lies, the fear, the constant reminders that, though he could live with the people of this planet, he wasn't truly one of them.

And yet, he couldn't help but wonder. He had been so sure of what he'd been doing when he turned his back on his heritage and walked away from his destiny. He'd refused to heed the warnings, ignored the promise of what destiny lay before him, and latched on to the "normal" mortality he'd so longed for with both hands. And he was happy with the life he'd built for himself, at least for the most part. No, it wasn't perfect, but it was real. It was honest. It was everything he'd always wanted.

So he really had no idea why he'd found himself wondering about what might have been more and more lately. He couldn't explain why, a year ago, he'd gone out of his way to track down the octagonal disk and hide it in this loft, or why, a few months ago, he'd started using the disk to travel to the icy and silent Fortress of Solitude in secret. Even he was at a loss to explain why he'd taken one of those crystals home, and he had no idea what compelled him to take it out every day and run his fingers along its smooth edges. And wonder. Had he unknowingly given up something he shouldn't have? Had Jor-El been right; did his destiny truly lie beyond the confines of Lowell County?

Was this idyllic (if occasionally boring) existence really the life he was meant to live? And what would his life have been like if he had chosen differently?

With a sound of dismay and scorn, Clark shook the traitorous thought out of his head. He was being absurd! Of course he was on the right path; after all, he didn't exactly _try_ to give up his powers. He had just embraced the opportunity that presented itself and refrained from looking for a way to change the situation. Okay, so occasionally he wished for some excitement to break up the monotony of his day-to-day routine, but he was normal. He wasn't the freak who fell from the stars. He was happy. And any idle fantasies he might entertain to the contrary were just that. Besides, he couldn't go back to the life he'd once had, even if he wanted to (which he didn't). Jor-El's voice had been silent for years now, the Fortress was dead, and there was no point now in wondering what might have been.

Blowing out a heavy sigh, he walked into the barn to face his parents' palpable concern. At their expectant looks, he glanced away a moment, shrugged, and said, "She said she knows about me."

Martha caught her breath in shock, and Jonathan reached up to rub the spot right between his eyes for a moment as he considered the situation. "What does she know?" he asked finally, looking intently at his son, obviously worried about the implications of this statement.

"Everything," he confessed, his voice sounding bewildered even to his own ears. "Well, almost everything. She knows about everything I used to be able to do, and she knows how I found out I could do it. She knows about the day we found out how fast I could run, that time I got lost in the woods. She knows I used to be able to hear what someone was whispering from five rooms away. She knows that I found out about my heat vision when I was…er…excited. She knows everything." His brow furrowed in confusion, he finished, "Except that she didn't know that I can't do any of those things any longer."

"Are you sure? Could it be some kind of act?" his father pressed.

Shaking his head, Clark said ruefully, "No. No, I think her surprise was genuine. As was her concern over my wellbeing. She seemed pretty emphatic about it, actually." As he spoke, he reached up to rub his cheek and wondered if her handprint still lingered on his face. She had hit him pretty hard.

"I don't understand," Mrs. Kent interjected softly. "Who is this person? How could she know all these things about you?"

"I don't know, Mom," he answered truthfully. "But it's hard not to believe her when she says that we're friends. I know it's impossible, because I've never spoken with her before, but some of those things she said…they were personal. And it wasn't just what she said, it was how she said it. She was…" He shook his head, still amazed that a total stranger had not only articulated some of his most private thoughts, she's been so passionate in her misguided attempt to come to his defense. "She said things I've never told anyone," he finally concluded. "And she's…she's really scared. I mean, she obviously honestly believes what she's saying is true."

Martha turned to Jonathan and asked, "So what are we going to do now? We can't just send her away in the state she's in. Not if she's telling the truth and she somehow really does know Clark."

Looking intently at his parents, Clark said, "Besides, something obviously happened to her, and I think I need to help her find out what it was."

A silence stretched between the group as everyone waited for Jonathan to make a decision. Finally, he said reluctantly, "Okay. We'll do what we can to get to the bottom of this. But, son, even though you don't have those abilities of yours, I want you to promise me that you'll still be careful around her. We don't know anything about this girl; you may not think you have to protect your secret any longer, but she could still be dangerous. I don't want you taking any chances."

Clark nodded in agreement and then gazed back towards the house. He wondered if it was safe to return to the kitchen. Now would be a really great time to have some super hearing, he reflected, but he supposed he'd just have to take his chances. Well…maybe he'd give them a few more minutes.

Finally, after he'd finished helping his parents load some things into the back of their truck, he dusted his hands off on his pants and gazed towards the house again. He really should go back; he'd been outside for a while, and his absence should have provide Lois enough of an opportunity to talk with Chloe. In an attempt to prove to Clark that the two of them knew each other, Lois had divulged some very private things. He hadn't wanted to eavesdrop on a similar conversation between the cousins.

"Do you want us to go with you?" Mrs. Kent asked as he headed towards the door.

Shaking his head, he rejected her offer. "Thanks, Mom, but I think she'd be more comfortable without as many people around right now."

Though he hadn't known what to expect when he joined his guests once more, whatever fears he'd had were put to rest when he opened the door to find Chloe laughing at something her cousin had said. He opened his mouth to ask what was so funny, and then he caught the look on Lois's face and his breath caught in his throat. The moment he'd walked through the door, she'd turned and looked at him with a smile that could light up a room. Her eyes were shining, and she practically glowed, she looked so happy.

Clark almost couldn't believe it was the same woman he'd met on his doorstep earlier that day, but then he watched as she regarded him as he entered the room. When her eyes traveled from his face to the leg that was causing the slight limp in his stride, the smile slowly faded from her face as the laughter left her eyes. It was a remarkable thing to see, this slow crumbling of joy into a quiet guardedness, and, not for the first time, Clark wondered what she'd been thinking a moment ago.

Clearing his throat, he ignored these idle thoughts and lowered himself into a seat at the table across from her. "So, we need to find out what happened; where do we start?"

Chloe sighed and turned to Lois. "Well, why don't we start by you telling us exactly what you remember of what happened today? Maybe it'll give us something to go on."

Nodding, Lois replied, "There was a light. It hit my car, and everything – my car and my cell phone – died. So I ran here to see if Clark could get…a tow truck for my car, and when I arrived, nobody seemed to know who I was."

"Okay. Well, that didn't help us much. What about before that? Start at the beginning, with the first thing you did this morning. Was there anything unusual that you noticed?" Clark watched Chloe as she asked these questions, and he couldn't help but smile. Apparently, Lois's faith in this woman wasn't misplaced. Though Clark could tell that Chloe didn't really buy Lois's story, she was still trying to do what she could to help.

Turning his attention back on Lois, he listened as she detailed the events of her day. He couldn't help but notice her obvious discomfort as she talked about the errands she had run for her upcoming wedding. She spoke slowly, haltingly, as if she were afraid of revealing too much, and he wondered that she should be so cautious at discussing her upcoming nuptials when she had revealed her awareness of his secrets without half so much hesitation. Was it possible she was rethinking her plans to get married and didn't want anyone to know?

"So then I got in my car to drive out here," Lois said, drawing his attention back to her story. He scowled in self-derision again; why did his mind keep wandering off the point? Whether or not Lois was having cold feet about her upcoming marriage wasn't his business, and it wasn't particularly helpful to the situation at hand.

"I was on the phone with you, Clark. We were talking about…uh…your mom's party plans, and then, like I said, there was a light."

"And that's it?" Chloe pressed. "That's all you remember?"

"Yes," Lois replied, then frowned and amended, "No, wait. There was a man by the side of the road. He was dressed all in white, and it looked like he was watching me. I swear, it gave me the creeps. I don't know what it was about him, but…there was just something wrong with him, if you know what I mean. When I looked at him, he wasn't quite in focus, you know? Like he wasn't really there." She shrugged and said, "Anyway, it was definitely strange."

Chloe frowned. "Okay, but nothing you just said sounds like it could have caused this sort of…are you sure you didn't leave anything out? Anything that might have happened to…ah –"

A brief scowl crossed Lois's face, but it quickly dissolved. "Oh…well, there was that moment when I fell and hit my head hard enough to cause amnesia. Do you think that's helpful?" she asked, her disappointment clear even through the heavy sarcasm of her words. At Chloe's guilty look, she sighed and said, "Damn. I'm sorry. Really. I can't expect you to just take it on faith that I'm telling the truth, but if I'm delusional, then where do you think I've been all of these years?"

Clearing his throat, Clark asked, "Where _have_ you been?" When Lois turned and fixed him with an affronted look, he rushed to clarify his question. "No, I mean…Chloe thinks you're dead, right? And you're obviously not. So maybe if we look into why everyone thinks you are, we'll find some clues to explain what really happened to you." Neither woman seemed convinced at his reasoning, so he shrugged. "It's not like we have a lot of other options to go on, here."

"Okay…well, I'm not sure what it is that you're hoping to find, but I suppose it's worth a shot. I have some files on my laptop that the two of you are going to want to see, if you're interested in the facts surrounding Lois's…disappearance," Chloe said matter-of-factly, though her voice shook slightly on the last word. Clearly, she was still working to come to terms with her new reality. "Let me go grab it out of the car, and we can look over it all together."

Once she'd excused herself and left the room, Clark caught Lois watching him out of the corner of her eye. After a moment, she cleared her throat and turned to face him. "I was probably out of line when I hit you," she said finally.

He smiled at her to try to make her feel better. "But you're not sure?" he asked, lightly teasing her.

Lois frowned. "I haven't decided yet. The jury's still out on that one; I'm just hedging my bets." Then, spitting the words out as if she couldn't be rid of them fast enough, she continued, "Anyway, until I figure out what's going on here, I'm sorry for behaving that way." Clark couldn't quite suppress a slight smile. Clearly, she was a woman who was not used to apologizing for much of anything.

"It's okay. You were upset; I understand," he reassured her softly. An uncomfortable silence fell between the two of them, and Clark studied the grain in the wood of the kitchen table as he considered the woman sitting across from him. He couldn't help but wonder about the relationship she and he supposedly had. They were friends, she had said, and close ones at that. Considering the vehemence with which she threatened him a while ago, he had every reason to believe that she genuinely did care about him. Ignoring the fact that she was a stranger to him at the moment, he had to wonder how she believed their relationship had come about. He'd only known her for a few hours, and he could already tell that she was different than anybody he'd ever met. It was hard to believe that the two of them were really friends – not because he found any reason to dislike her but because he found it difficult to imagine how to two of them would have met, let alone become close.

"Is it something you do often?" he asked, breaking the terrible silence.

Lois jumped at the sound of his voice, and she looked at him with wide eyes. "Is what something I do often?" she asked a bit breathlessly.

"Slapping me," he explained with a smile as, yet again, he wondered what she'd been thinking about just then.

She laughed, and he felt his breath catch as he watched her. There was something captivating about this woman who had barged into his life unexpectedly. No, he didn't know her, but something told him that she was like a human tornado: she'd turn his life upside down before everything was said and done. "No, I have to say that was a first for me," she said, still chuckling. "But I – "

Whatever it was she was going to say was interrupted as Chloe strolled into the room and plopped her silver laptop down on the kitchen table. "You guys are going to have to come over here if you want to see the screen," she said as she flipped open the lid and booted up her computer. While Clark and Lois pulled their chairs around to get a better view, Chloe navigated through her files until she finally clicked on a folder labeled simply 'Lois'. "You sure you want to do this?" Chloe asked as she looked at the woman whose life…or, rather, death…they were about to peruse.

"I'm sure," Lois said firmly, but she reached out and grabbed Clark's hand, clutching it tightly as she spoke. "I have to know what I'm up against."

Clark squeezed her hand reassuringly as the three of them turned their attention to the computer. Chloe clicked on the first file, and a newspaper article dated November of 1998 came up on the screen. According to the article, 16-year-old Lois Lane, accompanied by two other people, had disappeared while on a climb of Annapurna. She and her companions had missed the deadline they'd set to return to camp, and it had been days since anyone had heard from them. Her father had put together a massive search party to try to find them, but so far, the party's efforts were unrewarded.

He listened as Lois's breath grew more ragged as she read article after article detailing the circumstances surrounding her disappearance. Though the official search parties had been deployed for over a week and they'd come across the supplies Lois had carried with her up the mountain, nobody had ever found her body. After a month, the inquiry was closed and an official statement was released to the effect that she had no doubt been the victim of a tragic accident and was not expected to be found alive.

"Your father has never given up hope," Chloe said softly as Lois reached out and stroked the photo that accompanied her obituary with one trembling finger. "Not even after you were legally declared dead."

Lois turned to look at her, and Clark could see that there were tears in her eyes. "But I…I remember that trip," she whispered. Then she paused and swallowed heavily before shaking her head slightly and continuing, "I remember that trip! I didn't die up there on the mountain! In fact, we all decided to come home early when the weather started to turn." She glanced back at the screen and laughed suddenly, but the sound was devoid of humor. "The General and I got into another argument when I got back, because he said it was irresponsible of me to have flown to Nepal to go mountain climbing when I had more important things to be doing."

Chloe shook her head. "Well, then I don't know what to tell you, Lois, but believe me when I say that this is what happened. I even still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when Dad came in to tell me that you'd gone missing. Everyone was frantic; Uncle Sam took a leave of absence so he could join the search and rescue team, and he went up on that mountain every day. Lucy left school, and she had to come live with us for a while because your dad refused to let her anywhere near Nepal. He said one daughter had been lost on that mountain; he wasn't going to take the chance that his other one would do the same."

Clark watched as Lois looked down at the hand she had entwined with his. "What happened to him?" she asked, her voice so soft as to be almost inaudible.

Her cousin sighed, clearly uncertain about how to continue – or even if she should. "Lois, I'm not sure you should hear all this," she said.

There was that short, humorless laugh again. "I've just found out I apparently died on a mountaintop, Chlo. I think it's a little late for me to be getting squeamish now. And I need to know."

Biting her lip, Chloe continued reluctantly, "Your dad never got over your disappearance. He blamed himself for what happened; he said that the two had fought when you told him about your plans, and he wished he'd ordered you to stay home."

"I wouldn't have done it," Lois said honestly in a pained tone, and Clark squeezed her hand again, trying to offer what comfort he could. "I would have gone anyway. In fact, if he _had_ ordered me to stay, I'd have been that much more intent on going."

"Yeah, well…I think he knows that, but it doesn't seem to matter. After his extended leave of absence, he went back to work and…well, it seemed for a while like he was determined to pretend like nothing ever happened – except that, for years, he made sure to always be stationed as close to Nepal as possible. I think he wanted to be able to fly out there at a moment's notice, if anyone ever found anything." She cleared her throat uncomfortably and said, "The last time I actually saw your dad, though, was at your funeral. He told me he still thought you were going to come walking through the door in his office, yelling at him for sending a military escort along on your date. And that's the last time…" she winced and gave Lois an apologetic look before continuing, "As far as I can tell, he just doesn't talk about you any longer. Every time your name comes up, he changes the subject. I don't know that he can bear to think about what happened."

Though she clearly wasn't sure if she wanted to divulge any more information, Chloe reluctantly continued, "After your funeral…well, to tell you the truth, he pretty much stopped writing or calling. I don't think he even talks to Lucy very often. Dad calls him every month or so and keeps inviting him over, but he never accepts. According to your sister, he doesn't really get out much, even when he's on leave. As for Lucy…well, you'll be proud to hear that she graduated at the top of her class and is currently enrolled in a graduate program in London."

Still looking pained, Lois shook her head softly. "I just can't imagine that."

"Yeah, well, she'd never tell anyone this, but if you ask me, she's doing it for your dad. I think she's trying to be the daughter he lost. I think she's trying to be you."

"She's trying too hard," Lois murmured. "I'm not…I can't –"

When her voice trailed off, Clark noticed that Lois had gone pale. "Lois?" he began, looking at her in concern.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said in a choked voice, and then she jerked away from him and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door after her. Clark couldn't help but notice that she'd known exactly where to go; she hadn't so much as paused to glance around before charging upstairs.

After a moment, Clark lurched to his feet. "I going to go see if she needs anything," he said as he glanced at her cousin. "She'll be okay, Chloe."

Nodding, his companion asked, "Do you think I should call someone? Uncle Sam really should be told…I just don't know what to say to him."

She looked so helpless, Clark reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "No, I think we should wait before we do anything," he said. "We probably shouldn't get anyone's hopes up until we know for sure what's going on." He glanced towards the stairs. "Stay here; I'll be right back."

When Clark got up to the bathroom, he heard the unmistakable sounds of retching within. He waited until the sounds had stopped before tapping softly on the door. He didn't want to intrude, since she clearly needed a moment to get a hold of herself, but he wanted to make sure she was okay.

Finally, after a long couple of minutes, she opened the door and looked up at him with such sadness and confusion in her eyes, he ached to do something to alleviate it. Her story was impossible, but he still found himself wanting to believe it, if for no other reason than because her grief at what she'd lost was obviously so terrible.

"I'll be okay," she told him as she lifted her chin and put on a brave face, refusing to let him see her cry. "I just need a few minutes, okay?" Without waiting for a response, she closed the bathroom door in his face.

And his heart broke for her.


	6. Rings

After she'd finished getting sick, Lois perched on the edge of the bathtub and rested her head in her hands as she tried to get her thoughts under control. She couldn't keep focusing on what Chloe had just told her; she had to try to calm down and thing things out rationally. At first, Lois pondered the possibility that she'd wandered into a different world or something equally fantastic. However, it didn't take too long for her analytical mind to dismiss the possibility as being far too science fiction to be considered a likely scenario. No, it was far more plausible to believe that _someone_ was behind the whole thing; she just had to figure out who did this to them all and why.

In a way, she could understand why someone would want to impersonate Mr. Kent. If someone wanted to get close to Clark Kent (and therefore Superman), it was a logical choice. Then, of course, they would need to trick everyone into thinking there was nothing amiss with Jonathan Kent's presence – which explained a to certain degree the mental whammy that had hit all the Kents. It even explained why Chloe would be involved; she was close enough to Clark and Mrs. Kent to potentially stumble across the plot before the instigator was prepared, and she was determined enough to do something about it once she did.

But why make everyone forget Lois's existence? Worse, why make them all believe her to be dead? If they were trying to discredit her, or severely hinder her ability to investigate whatever was going on, it made sense to eliminate her from the situation. And it presumably would be just as easy to fake her death as to sabotage her work in some other fashion. Even still, it didn't make sense why whoever it was behind this didn't do to her what he (or she) had done to everyone else. Why not just influence her memories somehow? She liked to think that she was a fairly strong person mentally, but she had a hard time believing that her mind was exceptionally impenetrable.

It just didn't make sense. It couldn't have been an easy thing, manipulating everyone's memories so drastically. Lois had to wonder why, if Jonathan Kent's impersonator had done such a thing to get to Clark, he taken more action against her when she showed up at the farm. He had to know she was still going to be a threat – she was never going to give up on her fiancé and run the risk of something horrible happening to everyone she loved. Why not do something to get her out of the picture? Why leave her with Clark for the two of them to talk privately? Why even take the chance that she could destroy whatever plan was in store for them all?

Lois rubbed her forehead with a tired gesture. Her thoughts were too chaotic. She wished she had someone she could talk to, someone who could help her get to the bottom of this whole situation. True, Chloe and Clark had agreed to help her. But Chloe still didn't believe Lois's story, and until she did, she wasn't likely to put the full force of her formidable resources to the task. As for Clark…well, it had been one thing to get him to promise to help her find out why everyone thought she was dead. It would be entirely another to get him to realize and accept that the man he thought was his father really wasn't.

Clenching the side of the tub hard enough to turn her knuckles white, Lois took another few deep breaths and tackled the issue that was even more terrifying than the mysterious reappearance of Mr. Kent. Clark said he didn't have his superhuman abilities, and he had a vicious scar on his leg to back up his story. She'd even caught him limping slightly as he walked back into the kitchen earlier. Was the man downstairs really her fiancé? Either way, what had happened to him? She felt queasy even thinking about what kind of danger he might be in right now, and she had to take a few shallow breaths to quell the nausea that had hit her once more.

And if the purpose of impersonating Jonathan Kent was to get to Superman, why then eliminate Superman from the equation entirely? None of this made any sense. Who was behind all of these events, and what were they after?

Well, one thing was for sure: Lois wouldn't find the answers by hiding out in the bathroom. Standing, she walked over to the sink to splash her face with cold water and rinse the foul taste from her mouth. Gazing at her reflection, she braced herself and came to a decision. She would go downstairs and watch everyone carefully over dinner. If Clark was being impersonated, the imposter would certainly slip in some way – Lois knew every subtle facet to Clark's personality and mannerisms. It didn't matter who it was; there was nobody who would be able to pretend to be her fiancé convincingly enough to fool Lois for long.

Until she figured out what was going on here, exactly, she renewed her resolve to keep certain facts to herself. She was being manipulated. She didn't know what the perpetrators wanted from her, but she wasn't going to play right into their hands. So she was going to keep playing her cards close to her chest, at least until she figured out whether or not doing so would only further the imposter's ends somehow. If she didn't behave as they expected, maybe the imposters would make some kind of mistake.

By the time Lois made her way back downstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Kent had returned to the house and were preparing dinner. She threw them both a tight smile as she sank slowly into a seat at the kitchen table. It was showtime.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked automatically as she watched Mrs. Kent moving about the kitchen, getting everything ready for dinner.

Martha politely refused, just as Lois had known she would. "That's okay; we've got it covered. But thank you."

"So, Lois," Mr. Kent began, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he helped set the table. She turned to face him, and though her heart broke to see no trace of the affection the real Mr. Kent had once held for her on his familiar features, she tried not to show how much it hurt. "How is it that you know Clark, exactly?"

Fidgeting with her ring again, she tried to decide how much to tell him. "Well, we met back when Clark was still in high school. I thought something had happened to Chloe, so I came to Smallville to investigate, and since Clark was Chloe's best friend from school, I thought he might be able to provide some information."

A small smile crossed her face as she remembered the exact circumstances of her first encounter with Clark, but she decided those were probably details best left private. "Anyway, after everything got settled down, I decided to stay in town for a while. The rest of my family…well, they move around a lot, and I wanted to spend time with my cousin. I didn't have a place to stay, though, so you guys offered to let me crash here…which I know none of you remember.

"Long story short, when it opened up, I moved into the apartment over the Talon. I stayed there for a couple of years, but I eventually went off to Metropolis to pursue a degree in journalism. Then I got a job at the Daily Planet, where, of course, Clark and I are partners." She paused as an idea struck her. She wondered if she could go into the archives at the Planet and find old newspaper articles that she and Clark wrote together. If there was even a chance that seeing his name on a shared byline might jog his memory, it was worth the trip.

It was a testament to what kind of a day she was having that she was almost unsurprised to hear Clark make a soft snorting noise beside her. "A journalist? Me? Yeah, right, Lois. I don't work for a newspaper, and, even if I did, it wouldn't be as far away as Metropolis."

Through gritted teeth, Lois retorted, "Well, what can I tell you? You do. You work at the Daily Planet, and you and I are partners. We've worked together for a number of years now." Turning her attention back to the man she believed had to be responsible for this entire situation, she decided it was high time to go on the offensive. "And what about you, Mr. Kent? What have you been up to for the past…oh, seven years or so?"

With a challenging look, he replied, "Don't you already know? I thought you knew all about us."

"I know what you've been doing, but I'd like to know what you _think_ you've been doing," she retorted.

"Look, Miss Lane, I really…" he began, but he was cut off by the sound of the front door opening.

"Hey, everyone! Sorry I'm late; there were a few stragglers who just wouldn't leave. Hi, honey." Lana Lang strode into the kitchen and greeted everyone warmly before standing on tiptoe to give Clark a quick kiss hello.

Lois saw red. Okay, that was it! It was one thing for someone to make Clark forget her existence, it was another for that same person to drag Lana Lang back into his life! Hadn't that relationship suffered from enough drama in the course of its lifetime? Clark and Lana had hurt each other enough in the past. Now someone was trying to get them to do it again? Lois wasn't going to let that happen. Not to Clark. Not to Lana. And not to her.

She whirled on Jonathan, prepared to go on the attack, but Lana's words stopped her short. "Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't met. I'm Lana Lang, Clark's fiancée; it's nice to meet you. Are you a friend of the family?"

Lois almost choked as her head whipped around and she stared at Lana in open-mouthed astonishment. She felt that familiar numbness wash over her again, as if her brain was trying to disassociate from the rest of her body, to deny the events unfolding in front of her. "I'm sorry…what did you say?" she asked weakly.

"I asked how you knew the Kents." Lana looked at her searchingly and then reached forward to grab Lois's arm as she asked, "Hey, are you okay?"

With a short bark of humorless laughter, Lois replied, "No. I think I can say I am most definitely not okay. I don't think I've ever been as not okay in my life, in fact." Her eyes traveled down to the hand resting on her arm, and there she caught sight of the engagement ring. The engagement ring that looked uncannily like the one Lois herself wore on the third finger of her left hand.

It was a delicate gold circlet adorned with a small marquise diamond, and it had various scuffs on the band that proved it wasn't new. "It's a beautiful ring," Lois said softly as she surreptitiously rubbed the bottom band of the ring she wore with her thumb, just to reassure herself that it was still there. "How long have you two been together?"

"Well, we dated off and on throughout high school, but it'll be five years this December since we…," Lana began, but her voice trailed off suddenly. She was clearly still confused by Lois's behavior. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lois could see Clark mouth a promise to Lana…his future wife, apparently…that he would explain everything in a moment. Shaking her head slightly, she said, "I'm…I guess I'm nobody."

She wanted to scream, to cry, or to throw up again, but she didn't have the energy left to do any of the above. "You know, thanks anyway, but I don't think I'm really hungry. If you don't mind, I think I'll go lie down. Maybe things will make more sense in the morning."

Nodding sympathetically, Martha moved to her side and said, "It's okay, Lois. The bed in Clark's old room is already made up. It's upstairs, the…"

"No, that's okay. I know where it is," Lois replied cutting her off as she made her way to the door. She just wanted to get out of there, get away. Get back to the life she had that morning.

Though she just wanted to be left alone for a while, Chloe followed her into the living room. "Hey," the younger woman said comfortingly as she wrapped her arm around Lois in an awkward hug, "It's going to be okay." Though Lois knew her cousin was only trying to help, she wanted to scream. She wished people would stop saying that. Everything _wasn't_ going to be okay. It seemed like her entire life was a lie, or a delusion. Or maybe just a dream. At this point, it really didn't matter. It wasn't _real_ , and that's all she could focus on at the moment. She gazed over at her companion, who was only looking more concerned by her silence. "Um…is there anything I can get you? Would you like something to drink, maybe?" Chloe asked awkwardly after a while.

Glancing back towards the kitchen, where she could see all the Kents deeply engrossed in conversation, Lois replied, "My life. I want my life back." And then she closed her eyes and turned away. Pulling out of Chloe's embrace, she trudged up the stairs to lie in Clark's bed. Alone.


	7. Promise

A few hours after his parents' new houseguest had gone upstairs to lie down, Clark, Lana, and Chloe were still awake, talking about the events of the afternoon. Though he'd long ago offered to take his fiancée home, she'd been understandably intrigued by Lois's claims and had insisted she stay to do what she could to help.

Not that they were really getting anywhere. All they really knew for certain was that a woman was alive when she was supposed to be dead. They'd come up with a number of possible theories in the past few hours to explain her presence, but none of them seemed likely. Furthermore, her assertions that she knew them all would seem like the rantings of a lunatic if so many of the things she said weren't true.

None of it made sense, but while they discussed the issue, Clark heard a noise on the stairs and turned to watch Lois as she trudged into the kitchen. He was surprised to see her so soon – with as exhausted as she appeared, he'd expected her to sleep for several hours. Instead, she lowered herself into a chair at the kitchen table and rubbed her face wearily with her hands. When Chloe silently placed a full mug of coffee in front of the exhausted woman, she offered her thanks and closed her eyes as she took a deep swallow of the strong black liquid.

When she finished drinking and placed the mug aside, he watched as her gaze traveled around the group, finally resting on the woman at his side. "Lana," she said, a wry smile on her face. "You look as lovely as ever. Can't say I ever expected the two of us to be in this situation again."

That was a strange, somewhat enigmatic comment, and Clark wondered what it meant. Lana, however, responded by asking, "So we are supposed to know each other?"

Lois lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug and ran a fingertip lazily around the rim of her mug. "You could say that," she said, once again sounding weary. "So, I suppose you've been told what's going on?"

Lana answered Lois's wry smile with one of her own. "I think that might be an exaggeration. They told me that you say you know all of us, but you seem a bit…confused about certain details. Oh, and you're supposed to be dead."

"Well, that's cheery," Lois responded with a slight scowl. Then, as she crossed her arms on the table in front of her, she gazed around at them all with a determined look. "Okay, so…we need to start thinking outside the box, here. Chloe, do you think the meteor rocks could have caused this?" she asked, turning to her cousin.

Chloe looked at her in puzzlement. "The meteor rocks? You mean those stupid little green rocks that are attached to every chintzy souvenir Smallville has to offer? Why would they have anything to do with this?"

"Chloe!" Lois cried, gazing at her cousin in stupefied exasperation. "Come on! I know something strange is going on here, but this is absurd! You know as well as I do – better, even – what those rocks are capable of. I mean, you spent your entire high school career investigating everything paranormal in this town! And most of those things could be directly attributed to those innocuous looking pieces of meteorite."

Chloe sighed in resignation and shook her head. "Lois. I don't know where you got that idea, but believe me when I say that I didn't investigate anything in high school that didn't directly pertain to you."

Leaning back in her chair, Lois huffed, "Great. I can't believe this. There's probably never been anything more suited to the Wall of Weird than the last couple of days have been for me, and…what the heck is this? Some sort of alternate reality, where everyone but me has gone stark raving mad?"

"Lois, you talk like Clark and I – and everyone else, for that matter – have some sort of strange amnesia and don't remember the past. You don't seem to realize that we do. Or, at least, I do; I can't speak for Clark. There are no inexplicable blackouts in my memory, no lapses, no fogginess. I remember going to Metropolis Junior High (a little too well, actually), I remember the years I spent in high school, and I have a pretty good memory for everything that's happened after! You aren't in any of them, and it's not because those memories aren't there. It's because you weren't! I want to believe you, Lois, but how can I, when you clearly don't know much about me?"

As Chloe talked, Clark found himself studying the woman who was still such an enigma. It was remarkable, but he believed her. Not because he wanted to, or because he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. He believed her because he couldn't do anything else. It made no sense, because she was clearly ignorant of many aspects of his life – and Chloe's as well. She had obviously been surprised to find that he was planning to marry the love of his life, that he had a debilitating injury, that he wasn't quite the man she thought she knew.

But there was just… _something_ …about the way she looked at him. He couldn't explain it; he couldn't even understand it. He just believed in it.

Suddenly, Lois's suggestion, while sounding like something from a bad sci-fi novel, seemed to have merit. "Could it be? An alternate reality, I mean," Clark interjected suddenly, cutting off Lois when it looked like she was preparing to grill her cousin's memories of her formative years. All three women around the table looked at him incredulously, and he shrugged. "You just said it, Chloe. That would explain everything."

Lois shook her head. "Clark, we were being facetious. I think we can all agree that the idea that the suggestion of alternate realities is more than a little farfetched. I mean, there's strange, and then there's impossible."

Raising his eyebrows at her, he replied, "Really? Because I was under the impression that you told me just yesterday that you were friends with a man who could fly. That seems pretty impossible to me." He didn't flinch from the scathing glare she shot his way; he had a point, and he knew that she would have a hard time denying it. "Look, I know it seems crazy. But we've been talking in circles for a while now, and we don't seem to be getting anywhere. You're certain that everything you say is true, and we're just as certain that it couldn't possibly be. Do you have a better explanation for any of this?"

She shook her head. "No. But I don't care. There has got to be one, and we need to keep working at it until we find it!"

Lana huffed impatiently and interjected, "You know, Lois, if you really are from an alternate reality somehow…and, yes, I think that's in insane suggestion too…then it's not like we can simply wish it to be something else. Either you are or you aren't. We really don't have any control over it."

"I don't care!" she cried, jumping to her feet. "There _has_ to be another answer! Damn it!" In frustration, she whirled on her heel and stormed out of the room. Clark winced when he heard the front door slam, and he looked around at his companions in silence long after the sound had faded. When he realized that they looked as baffled as he felt, he slowly rose to his feet and followed Lois outside. He knew she probably wanted to have a moment to gather her thoughts, but he also knew that she was eager to find answers to the mystery as soon as possible. Knowing that, he didn't understand why she had been so adamantly opposed to his suggestion; he knew it sounded insane, but, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to fit.

He found Lois standing on the front porch, gripping the railing as if her hold on it was the only thing anchoring her to the Earth, when he came up behind her. With a soft sigh, Clark turned towards her and leaned heavily against the banister, offering her the opportunity to approach the subject when she felt ready to do so.

He waited, knowing it wouldn't be long before she opened up to him. As he did, he had to reflect how he could possibly be so certain that she would do so. If his theory was correct, he couldn't know anything about her at all, not really. And she couldn't really know anything about him.

His patience was rewarded, however, when she broke her silence. "It can't be true," she said finally.

He was silent for a while longer, then he replied gently, "Lois, you're talking to a man who was born several solar systems away. I'm not entirely sure we can say with any certainty what is or isn't possible." Narrowing his eyes, he watched her closely. "I know how it sounds, but…it _fits_. Lois, can you think of anything else that would explain why you honestly believe that everything you say is true, if you're not crazy?"

With a snort of humorless laughter, she suggested, "Maybe the rest of you are?"

"All of us? Not to mention your father, sister, fiancé, friends…" He let his voice trail off, knowing she got the point.

After a moment, she grudgingly agreed. "Okay. So it's possible. Anything's possible. I just don't _want_ it to be true." Turning towards him, she explained anxiously, "Don't you see? If there's another explanation – any explanation at all – then I know we can fix this. I _know_ it. It doesn't matter if it's mind control, meteor freaks, hallucinations, or a massive head trauma. We can get to the bottom of it, and I can get my life back.

"But if this theory is correct…? How do I fix that, Clark? How do I get back to where I belong? Is there a magical multi-dimensional transportation device around here that I don't know about, because otherwise, how do I get home?"

He didn't answer her. How could he? He didn't have the answers any better than she did, but he watched as she turned to gaze across the fields again, a faraway look on her face. "Clark...He must be so worried about me. My fiancé. If this theory is correct – if I've been taken away from him, and all his memories are unchanged – he must…I can't even imagine what he must be going through, not having any idea what happened to me, or where I went, or if I'm okay."

He stepped forward to comfort her, but the sorrow on her face when she looked up at him again took his breath away. "How do I get back to him, Clark? Believe me when I say that there's a lot I can handle, but I'm not sure I can take this. Six days! I'm supposed to get married to him in six days! If I'm in an alternate dimension…what if I can't get back there in time? What if I can't get back there at all?"

"Lois," he murmured, "I know this sounds impossible. But we will find a way to get you home. I promise you, we'll find a way."

She gazed at him for a long moment, as if searching for something in his face. Finally, however, she said, "I really wish I could believe that, Clark."

Clark grabbed her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze as he offered her an encouraging smile. "Come on…do you really have so little faith in me?"

"If you were the Clark I know, I'd have every faith in your ability to keep that promise. But you're not," she replied sadly as she turned away from him again, wrapping her arms tightly over her stomach and bowing her head.

When he saw the forlorn line of her body, he couldn't stop himself from trying to comfor her. "Don't give up so easily, Lois," he demanded, though his voice was still soft. Taking a step towards her, he continued, "I know things seem impossible right now, but we can find a way to fix this. We'll find your way home. You can't just give up now."

Silence fell between them for a long minute, and he wondered if she'd even heard him. However, after a moment, she turned around swiftly and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. There was a steely determination in both her gaze and voice that he hadn't noticed before when she said, "You're absolutely right, Clark. Self-pity never got anyone anywhere, and I never was very good at it anyway. I will find my way back to him; I don't care what it takes. I am not going to give up on him so easily, and I know he won't give up on me."

"He sounds like a very lucky guy, your fiancé," he said softly, and he meant it. It was clear that the woman in front of him would go to any lengths to get back to the man she loved. He knew he probably shouldn't, but he felt a twinge of envy for the man waiting for her return. It had to be an incredible thing, being loved that much – and by a woman as amazing as Lois Lane. Clark didn't know her that well, but he could tell already that she was a force of nature: untamable, unstoppable, and completely breathtaking. "Tell me about him, Lois. What's his name?" he asked as he released her hand and took a step back. He didn't know where that thought had come from, but it would only lead him into trouble.

He could tell Lois was taken aback by the question, which surprised him in turn. When she didn't immediately answer him, he considered asking if there was a reason she seemed so reluctant to reveal too much about the man waiting somewhere for her. Before he could do so, however, she bit her lower lip, threw him a peculiar look, and replied, "Jimmy. Uh...James. His name is James Olsen."


	8. Closure

For the first ten blissful minutes of the following morning, Lois forgot the peculiarities of the situation in which she'd found herself. Then she got out of bed, threw on the same set of clothes that she'd worn the day before, and trudged downstairs for her morning cup of coffee. The moment she entered the kitchen, however, she saw Mr. Kent sitting at the kitchen table, taking a sip out of the mug in his hand.

"Oh," she mumbled with a disappointed sigh. "Not a dream, then."

"I'm sorry?" he asked, looking up at her. "Did you say something?"

Shaking her head, she grabbed a cup of coffee herself and automatically walked over to the cabinet over the stove to get the sugar bowl. Then, after doctoring her drink, she gingerly lowered herself into a seat at the table. As she watched him drink his coffee, it occurred to her that, if the current theory was correct, the man seated at the table with her truly was Jonathan Kent. Oh, certainly not _her_ Mr. Kent – not the man who had invited her into his house as if she were a member of the family. Not the man who had hired her to be his campaign manager. Not the man she'd respected as a person and loved as a father. But he was Jonathan Kent. It hurt, the realization that yet again, she was faced with someone who was so familiar, but he wasn't really the same.

Setting aside the morning paper, Mr. Kent said thoughtfully, "It's an interesting theory."

Though there had been no segue into the topic, Lois didn't bother to ask him to clarify his remark; there could only be one theory up for discussion. Instead, she nodded and muttered, "Tell me about it." She wasn't really surprised to find that Clark had divulged the previous night's discussion with his parents. She was a bit shocked, however, to find that Mr. Kent didn't seem to have dismissed it out of hand – at least, he apparently didn't find the idea so ludicrous that it warranted throwing her out of his house. "You think it might be true, that I might be from an alternate dimension or something?" she asked, her conflicting feelings evident in her tone.

He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table as he seemed to ponder her question. Finally, sitting up again, he said, "Miss Lane, I'm not even going to pretend to know what's going on here. My son seems to think you're from another dimension, and maybe you are. If something really terrible did happen to you, then we'll do everything we can to help you figure it out. But I have to tell you, if you're not being honest with us – if you're here because you're after something – then you should know that I'm not about to let anyone threaten my family."

"You don't trust me," she said wryly. Of course, it made sense. He had no reason to wholeheartedly agree with the prevailing theory, particularly since it was implausible – or, at the very least, improbable. "Well, I can't say I'm terribly surprised. I've never known you to be a man who lightly changes his preconceived notion about someone." She said this without rancor; it was, in fact, one of the reasons she had felt such an affinity for Clark's father. She had been accused of being likewise more than once.

"From what I can tell, the feeling's mutual," he replied. "Care to tell me why you keep looking at me like you've seen a ghost?"

Lois flinched. "Is that supposed to be funny?" she demanded caustically.

Jonathan Kent shook his head slowly as he gave her a considering look. "Not particularly, no," he replied. "Why would it be?"

She paused before replying, realizing that there was no way he could know about the fate of the Mr. Kent in her world. Instead of answering his question, she shrugged. "No reason, I guess." A long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. When she couldn't take it any longer, she decided to address the matter at hand. Meeting his eyes, she said, "Anyway, I think I should make something clear. I would never do anything to hurt any of you. I don't know who or what's behind this, or why I've been brought here, but I am going to find out. And, whatever happens, I don't want to get your family get dragged into the middle of anything."

His expression gave nothing away as an uncomfortable silence fell between them; she couldn't tell whether or not he believed her declaration to be sincere. She tried to pretend she didn't care that he didn't trust her the way that the Jonathan Kent she had known had done – after all, she still wasn't entirely convinced that she bought Clark's theory – but it was hard. Particularly since her first reaction to seeing his only-too-familiar features that morning was an almost irrepressible urge to wrap him in a tight hug and tell him all the things she wished she'd told her Mr. Kent when he was still alive.

Therefore, it was with profound relief that she turned to look at Mrs. Kent when the older woman strolled into the kitchen, a pile of clothes in her arms. "Good morning, Lois. I found these in the attic, and I thought you might be able to use them. They're a few years old; I hope you don't mind. Clark said he didn't see any suitcases in the back seat of your car when he had it towed last night, so I thought you might need a change of clothes. I can't promise they'll fit, but they might do until we can find you some others."

"Thanks, Mrs. Kent," Lois replied with sincere gratitude. "I'm sure they'll be just fine." As she stood to grab the stack in Mrs. Kent's arms, she cleared her throat and asked as nonchalantly as she could manage, "By the way, where is Clark? I haven't seen him yet this morning, and I wanted to talk to him; is he working outside?"

"He called earlier to say that one of the girls called in sick this morning, so he had to help Lana out at the Talon." When Lois looked at her in surprise, she clarified, "Oh, I guess you wouldn't know…Clark and Lana own the Talon, the local coffee shop."

"Yeah," Lois interjected with a scowl. "I'm familiar with it."

After a slightly awkward pause, the older woman continued, "Well, actually, Lana usually runs it, while Clark helps out on around here. But he fills in sometimes when they're short-staffed." For a moment, Lois was tempted to ask if they lived above the coffee shop as well, but she thought it might still be too early in the day for her stomach to handle a conversation about the younger soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Kent's living arrangements. Actually, she wasn't sure there was a time of the day that she'd be able to handle a discussion on the subject. "He asked me to tell you that he'd be by when he could," Martha offered helpfully, apparently misinterpreting the look that had crossed Lois's face. "But Chloe called a few minutes ago; she's on her way out here right now. In fact," she paused as she looked out the window at the car that was currently pulling up in front of the house, "this should be her now."

With a sigh of relief, Lois said, "Excellent. I'm going to run upstairs and change. Would you mind telling her I'll just be a minute?" As quickly as she could, she ran to change clothes. She was sorry that Clark couldn't join them until later, though perhaps it was for the best. It was unnerving, talking to him and knowing he had no idea of who she was. Still, she had no intention of waiting around until he showed up; she wanted to find a way home as soon as possible, and she wasn't going to waste any time.

When she got downstairs, Lois gestured for her cousin to follow as she said without preamble, "Hey, Chlo. Come on, I have an idea," and walked to the back door. As they headed outside, Lois strolled towards Chloe's car and said, "You're driving."

"Okay," her companion replied slowly as she followed. "And where is it we're going, exactly?"

"I thought about it last night as I was trying to go to sleep," she replied as Chloe started the car and put it into gear, waiting for some sort of direction. "Look, let's say we were right last night, and I was somehow magically transported to an alternate reality. Even if that's not what happened, it's clear that _something_ did. I don't know what would have caused any of this, but I _do_ know that I was in my car whenever it – whatever "it" is – happened. I'd thought we'd look around the area where I saw the light, see if we can find anything that might give us any clue about what caused all this."

Followed her companion's directions, Chloe drove in silence until Lois told her to stop. It was only when they were stepping out of the car that she spoke again, "Okay, but I'm not really sure what it is you're looking for, some kind of alternate reality transportation device? Something tells me the answer isn't going to be so simple."

With a sigh, Lois said, "I know. But I thought it was worth a shot." Keeping her gaze on the ground, she walked around the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. As she did so, however, she watched her companion out of the corner of her eye. Chloe kept staring at her until Lois couldn't take it any longer. Pausing in her task, she looked up and met her cousin's gaze. "I really wish you'd stop doing that."

Chloe jumped and looked away quickly as she asked, "What do you mean?"

"You're staring at me like I'm going to disappear on you any second. It's kinda creeping me out."

As Chloe turned back to her, she bit her lip and gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. It's just…it's so strange, having you here. I know you're supposed to be from an alternate universe, but it's hard not to think you're Lois…I mean, my Lois. You were my best friend when we were growing up, and…I just…I've missed you. I've missed talking to you. Having you here is…it's just weird," she finished lamely.

Considering that she'd been thinking the same thing when she'd been with Mr. Kent earlier, Lois couldn't really chastise Chloe now. "I know," she replied. Then, in an attempt to change the subject (she found the topic of her untimely demise disquieting, to say the least), she cleared her throat and asked, "So, you really never put together the Wall of Weird, huh?"

Looking bemused, Chloe turned back to her task and replied, "And what's that? A photo gallery of all my ex-boyfriends?"

With a snort of laughter, Lois chose her words carefully as she replied, "Not exactly. It was your…that is, my Chloe's…pet project throughout high school. She had this theory that everything strange that happens in this town – and we definitely get more than our share – could be linked back to the meteor shower that hit Smallville in 1989." When she saw her companion's skeptical look, she rushed to explain, "Yeah, I know. I thought you were insane, thinking the meteor rocks changed people somehow. But then, when the second shower hit and I saw…"

"What second shower?" Chloe interrupted, clearly confused.

Lois looked at her companion in surprise. "The second shower…you know, the one that hit during your senior year of school? Actually, it hit right in the middle of your graduation ceremony; I would have thought, all things considered, it would have been hard to miss."

With a small shake of her head, Chloe contradicted this statement. "Sorry, but that never happened. I mean, I was here…at least, I graduated from Smallville High…I'm pretty sure I'd have picked up on flaming pieces of rock falling from the sky. Must be one of those things that's exclusive to your world."

Silence fell between the girls once these words were spoken. Lois didn't know what her cousin was thinking, but she was trying to figure things out. There was no second meteor shower in Smallville? But, according to Clark, it had been caused by his refusal to listen to Jor-El's order to follow his destiny. So, had Jor-El not commanded that Clark collect the elements and piece them together? Had Clark never become Kal-El? Was there now no Fortress of Solitude?

The implications of her cousin's remark were staggering – or, rather, they could be, but since Chloe had no idea that Clark was an alien who had once been gifted with incredible powers, Lois doubted she'd find much more help on the issue from this quarter. Instead, she tried another tactic.

"So you did live in Smallville? Or you do? I mean, I got the impression that you'd never lived here."

With a slight shrug, Chloe replied, "I did, for a little while." At her companion's curious look, she explained, "I guess you probably wouldn't know. I'm not sure what…well, okay. We almost moved here when I was in junior high; Dad got offered a promotion at LuthorCorp, and he was thinking about taking it. But then you disappeared and things got crazy for a while. When they decl…once they'd settled down, he was offered the job again, but he passed on it. He said he didn't want to uproot my life any more than it already had been."

"So you stayed in Metropolis?" Lois prompted. Caught up in Chloe's tale, she had almost forgotten their purpose for being out in the middle of nowhere, searching the side of the road. Normally, she wasn't so easily sidetracked, particularly not when the matter was so important. But she could tell that the woman beside her wasn't the same cousin she knew, and she was curious to find out why.

"Yeah. But then, a few years later, he got offered another promotion, only he accepted it this time. We moved to Smallville during my junior year of high school, and the rest, as they say, is history."

Lois took a few moments to digest these words. If Chloe didn't move to Smallville until she was older, it explained in part why she and Clark had never become friends. However, it didn't quite clarify why this version of her cousin seemed to have absolutely no interest in investigative journalism – which was the only thing Lois could conclude from finding out that she'd never once caught on to the effect the meteor rocks had on people. "So you weren't the editor of the Torch, I take it," she said slowly as she tried to piece everything together.

"Hardly," Chloe said with a derisive half-laugh. I thought about working for the Torch when I first moved down here – you know, for the extracurricular credit – but I never got around to it. I didn't exactly hit it off with the person who was editing the paper at the time, and anyway, I really was too busy to take on anything else."

"Okay," Lois said, drawing out the word. This alternate universe theory of Clark's was sounding better by the second. Lois couldn't think of anything else that might explain a world in which Chloe had clearly never been bitten by the journalism bug. "So, what'd you do after graduation? I'm going to go out on a limb and say you never took that internship with the Daily Planet."

Chloe grinned over at Lois. "Your Chloe's like you, then? She's a hotshot reporter? Sorry, but it never really interested me. Instead, I took the criminal justice route. What I'd really like to do is get a job in Missing Persons, and believe me when I say it's a lot harder than it sounds. But I –" she broke off, then shot another look in Lois's direction. "I want to make sure that nobody else's family has to go through what we did when you disappeared."

"I'm sorry," Lois said, knowing it was a ridiculous thing to say. She'd come down from that mountain safely, and the Lois of this world surely hadn't asked for the fate she'd received. Still, she felt she had to say something. "It must have been…I can't imagine what it must have been like for all of you to lose someone you loved."

"Actually, the worst part was never knowing. I mean, even though I knew you were probably dead, there's a part of me that always wondered…I don't know. I guess it sounds stupid, but I always hoped that maybe you were still alive somewhere. Like you'd come down that day and simply headed off on another one of your wild adventures, only you forgot to tell anyone you were going." She shrugged sheepishly before turning her gaze back to the ground at her feet. "I guess…if you're really not her, I guess that's still possible, right? My Lois could still be out there somewhere; she might still come home someday." She sounded so pathetically and desperately full of false hope, it broke Lois's heart.

"Chloe," Lois began, pained by the thought of what she was about to do. She knew she probably shouldn't interfere. She had no way of knowing what had happened on that mountain, any better than anyone else. But she couldn't just condemn the cousin she loved like a sister to a lifetime of wondering and not try to do what she could to help. She hadn't even gone a full twenty-four hours without any news of her fiancé or any way to find out if he was okay, and it was already driving her mad; she couldn't imagine what years of such uncertainty would feel like. Putting her hand on her cousin's arm, she murmured sadly, "Chloe, she's never going to come home. I'm sorry…I know I'm not the Lois you knew, but it doesn't matter. I can promise you that she never would have left you like that. She never would have left you wondering if she was alive or dead."

"How could you know that?" Chloe demanded, and the sorrow behind these words, the heartbroken catch in her cousin's voice, brought tears to her eyes. "You can't possibly know what…"

Lois shook her head, forestalling her companion's protest. "Chloe, remember when we were little, and I used to dragged around from base to base every six months or so? What was the first thing I did, every time the General took me somewhere new?"

With a small smile, Chloe answered sadly, "You always called to tell me you were okay. Bored, generally, but okay."

"That's right. Even before I got all my stuff squared away, I'd get you on the phone. It used to drive the General crazy, remember?" At her companion's reluctant nod, she continued, "It doesn't matter what dimension we're in. I can guarantee that there's no way I would have just left you without a word. You know that. If you haven't heard from her, if she never called you to tell you she was okay, it's because she couldn't."

She could tell her companion was trying her best to deny her reaction to these words, but she couldn't quite ignore the truth behind them. When Chloe's face crumpled, Lois wrapped her arms around the younger girl when she saw the tears start to fall. "I'm so sorry, Chlo," she murmured helplessly as she stood by the side of the road and listened to the heartbroken sobs carrying across the empty fields around them.


	9. Interlude I: Silence

**Day One**

"Any news?" Clark, still dressed in his Superman costume, asked anxiously as he hurried through the back door to the Kent household. Seeing the expressions on the faces of his mother and Chloe, he ran a hand through his hair in agitation. Uncharacteristically tousled, it was clear from his appearance that this wasn't the first time he'd done so.

Speaking more to himself than to his companions, he murmured, "I don't understand. What could have happened to her?" as his pent-up frustration released itself in impotent pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor. It had been only a couple of hours since his last conversation with Lois, and he'd spent the intervening time scouring every inch of Lowell County before expanding his search to include the better part of the state of Kansas. Though he could swear he'd covered every inch of ground, no sign of his fiancée could be found.

"Damn it!" The expletive burst from his mouth unexpectedly, and Chloe and Martha jumped when he punctuated his words by slapping his hand suddenly against the top of the kitchen table. When the wood buckled and split in response to his gesture, the trio stood in mutual silence for a moment as they pondered the wreckage before them. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said contritely, running his fingers through his hair again.

"Don't worry about it, honey," she said reassuringly. "It's just a table."

She didn't say any more, but that could have been because it was clear that Clark was no longer listening to her. "I have to get back out there," he blurted as he made an abrupt turn towards the door.

Chloe stopped him before he'd gotten more than halfway there. "Clark," she said, reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm. She sounded so worried, he turned to offer her words of comfort he wasn't even sure he could find, but then her words made it clear she was, at least at the moment, thinking more of his safety than her cousin's inexplicable disappearance. "You look…maybe you should sit down for a few minutes. Lois isn't exactly helpless; most of the time, she can take care of herself. And, even if she does need help, you aren't going to be much use to her if you collapse before you can get to her."

Clark scowled. He didn't need a mirror to tell him that the strain of the last couple of hours was taking its toll. It wasn't just his concern for Lois's safety that was weighing on him. In a desperate attempt to find her, he'd spent a good deal of time searching the areas of Smallville notorious for being repositories of large amounts of Kryptonite, on the theory that an abductor might be aware of her frequent savior's weakness and have realized he could take advantage of it in order to prevent a superhuman rescue. In light of Chloe's concern, he said implacably, "She's got to be out there somewhere. There has to be something I overlooked. I have to go find her."

"And I'm not suggesting for a minute that you shouldn't. But this may not be the best way to go about it. For one thing, if you keep racing around, exposing yourself to Kryptonite, you're going to be too weak to help her – provided she needs help – when you do finally find her!" she argued fiercely. When he stared down at her in stony silence, she took a deep breath and said persuasively, "Look, we don't know what happened to her, or even if something _did_ happen to her."

"You think I'm overreacting?" he accused, his eyes narrowing in anger.

Chloe frowned and shook her head slightly. "I didn't say that. I'm sure you have a good reason to be concerned that she's not here yet, but I don't understand why you're so convinced that something horrible happened to her. It's not like she's not known for her tendency to run late. It's only been a couple of hours, and we really don't have any reason to suspect that it's anything more serious than a dead battery on a cell phone and a few last-minute details she realized she hadn't yet taken care of. A million things could have happened between the Talon and this house that would explain why she's not gotten here yet."

When it was clear he wasn't convinced, she continued, "I know you're worried about her. I worry about her, too. But don't you think you're jumping the gun a little? We don't have any reason to suspect her life is in danger. And if she is in trouble," Chloe had to pause to swallow heavily at the thought, "I know that she isn't going to be helped out of it by the three of us losing our heads and running around without some sort of an idea of what we're up against.

"If the problem was going to be solved by you simply flying around Smallville in the hopes of stumbling across her, you would have found her by now. Clearly, we need to try something else." In her eyes, the complete and utter faith she had in her cousin was clear. He knew Chloe hadn't begun to panic yet because, quite simply, she believed that there were few things Lois _couldn't_ handle.

Unable to bear seeing such hope in her eyes, the expectation that Clark was somehow overreacting and everything was going to be okay, he swallowed heavily and looked away. He knew what Chloe wanted to believe: that Lois's disappearance was probably caused by nothing more major than a breaking news story that she couldn't pass up. He knew that Chloe had faith he would always bring her cousin safely home from whatever life-threatening escapade she'd engaged in, by sheer virtue of the force of his presence and the fact he'd done that very thing hundreds of times before.

The problem was, this time, he wasn't certain he could do as she asked. "You don't understand, Chloe," he began, but then he found he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat.

His mother must have realized there was something more to the situation that he wasn't sharing, because she stepped closer to the two of them and looked into his face searchingly. "Clark. Honey, what is it?" she asked softly, her words tentative, as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

He couldn't stop his voice from cracking as he said in a tortured voice, "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm overreacting; that Lois will probably walk through that door any minute now. The problem is, I _know_ something terrible happened to her." When Chloe opened her mouth to argue, he met her eyes again, and he knew the bleakness he felt must have been apparent in his face, because the words never made it out of her throat.

"I've spent the better part of each day over the last few years right next to her. I know Lois; I could pick her out of a hundred in a crowd, just hearing the rhythm of her heartbeat and the pattern of her breathing. It's not even something I think about, really. It's just something that's always there, and as long as it is, I know everything's okay."

Pulling away from his mother and Chloe, he turned to stare out the window. He didn't think he could face them when he imparted his next revelation. "When I heard her cry out, I raced as fast as I could to try to reach her. She was scared; I could hear it in her voice." He paused and his mouth twisted as he amended, "Her heart was pounding, and she was breathing heavily when I flew to her; I could hear it, all the way from here. And then I heard her scream my name."

When he turned back towards the women standing together, and the terror he'd been feeling for the last couple of hours was reflected on their faces. In a stark voice, he said softly, "Then I didn't hear anything."

With a ragged breath, he murmured, his eyes filling with tears, "I know something terrible happened, Chloe, because I've spent the last hour racing across the entire state, hoping for any sign of her, any reason to believe that she's okay, that she's unharmed. That she's alive. And all I hear is silence."


	10. Broken

Several hours later, Lois and Chloe found themselves back at the Kent Farm with nothing to show for their day's efforts. Try though she might, Lois had been completely unable to find anything that might have provided a clue into the trip she'd taken between realities. They were sitting together on the front porch, trying to figure out their next step, when Clark's truck drove up and stopped in front of the house.

"Hey," he said as he strolled up the walk. "Sorry I couldn't get here earlier. Things were crazy at the Talon, and I couldn't get away."

"That's okay; you didn't miss much," Lois said as she looked past him towards his truck; nobody was following behind him. "Is Lana not with you?" she asked, trying to hide her relief at the prospect. She didn't begrudge Lana's relationship with Clark in this alternate universe; it wasn't as if Lois could have any claim on the man who would be her fiancé in another life, but that didn't mean it was easy for her to be continually faced with the fact that this man wasn't and would never be hers.

Clearing his throat, he didn't quite meet her eyes as he replied, "No, she was feeling a little tired, so she decided to stay in tonight. She said she'll try to get out here tomorrow, though."

Well, that was interesting, Lois speculated. This Clark was apparently no better at lying to her than the one in her reality. Though her first reaction was to grill him until he told her the truth, she shrugged instead and let it go. She was probably reading too much into it. He was no doubt hiding nothing more nefarious than Lana's desire to avoid getting involved in the entire alternate-reality mess, and Lois couldn't really blame her.

"Well, we have some time before dinner. Have a seat; we're trying to figure out what to do next," she said matter-of-factly, forcing her thoughts away from anything having to do with the man in front of her – or his soon-to-be wife.

"About that, I actually have something to tell you," he began as he took a seat on the step below her, angling his body so he could look up at both women sitting on the porch. "While I was at work today, I asked around a little about that light you saw, Lois. Nobody mentioned seeing anything really unusual on the day you arrived, but a couple people did say they'd seen what they thought was a flash of lightning off in the distance. I didn't get a chance to get much information from them, but I can keep asking around," he offered as he leaned back against the top step and stretched his legs out in front of him.

With a nod, Lois threw Clark a grateful smile and agreed, "That'd be great. If you can get any more information, it might help us figure out if that light came from any particular direction and what might have caused it." She paused, then she said with a frown, "But there has to be something else we're missing. I mean, I got yanked from one reality and put into another. I don't know much about multi-dimensional transportation, but you'd think something like that would have to leave behind some sort of mark or sign or something." Turning to her cousin, she asked, "Is there any chance you could do some research on whatever theories might be out there regarding possible alternate universes? Anything that pertains to the theory of traveling between them would be particularly helpful, obviously."

Chloe looked doubtful. "Well, I guess I could look into it. Of course, theoretical physics isn't really my thing; I can look online and see what I can dig up, if you'd like, but you probably shouldn't get your hopes up too high. I'm not sure how helpful it'll be – I doubt there's much technical information there will be, or how much I'll be able to understand. But it's worth a shot." With a thoughtful look, she continued, "Also, I thought we might check into the source of the power outage you experienced when you arrived. Again, I don't know much about electromagnetic pulses, but you said you realized that everything electronic you had with you – your car and your cell, at least – had died after the light hit you. That sure sounds like an EMP to me…at least as far as I've gathered from watching _The Matrix_ fifteen times."

Lois nodded. "Sounds good. Since you have access to the Internet, why don't you handle the research into alternate realities, and I'll see what I can do about the EMP. If that was a side-effect of whatever transported me here, then I'm betting it wasn't just localized in the small area around my car."

"Okay, I'll get started on it right away," Chloe said as she stretched lazily and rose to her feet.

Looking at her in surprise, Lois asked, "You're leaving?"

Chloe smiled ruefully at her. "Yeah. I should head out to my dad's. I told him I came down to visit friends, but he's going to wonder if I'm out running around too much. I don't know that many people in Smallville, after all. If he starts to wonder where I've been, he might find out about you, and I don't think you'll have an easy time convincing him that you're from an alternate universe. Don't worry, though, Lois," she said as she bent down to hug the woman in question, "I'll come back out here as soon as I can. Believe me."

As Lois reluctantly agreed, she stood and gave Chloe a tight hug. "But hurry back, okay?"

Then, with a quick wave, Chloe was gone. An uncomfortable silence fell between the two people left on the porch as they stared off into the distance and thought about all the things they didn't know how to say and weren't sure they should discuss even if they did. "Lois," Clark began as the tension between them grew unbearable, "I was wondering. In this other world of yours, am I –?"

"Actually," she said, interrupting him. "Do you mind if we don't talk about that? I mean, just for tonight. It's been," she paused, gazing sadly into the distance, "a very long day."

"Of course," he replied, offering her an awkward smile, and they descended into silence once more.

A few minutes later, when she saw Clark out of the corner of her eye as he reached forward and absentmindedly rubbed his injured leg, Lois was embarrassed to realize how little thought she'd given his injury. It was just so easy for her to forget that the man beside her wasn't the invulnerable one she knew, and she asked as tactfully as she could, "You know, it's getting a little cold. You want to go inside?"

She knew by the rueful look her companion threw his leg that the care she'd taken in phrasing the question hadn't fooled him one bit. "It's okay," he replied, pulling his hand away. "It doesn't really hurt."

Now she wasn't the one fooled. This Clark wasn't so unlike her own, and she knew her fiancé too well for him to placate her so easily. Though she knew she should probably let the subject drop, the same curiosity and need to know that made her such a good reporter wouldn't let her off to hook so easily. "Does it usually?" she asked softly. When he turned to look up at her, she offered him an apologetic smile. "I understand if you don't want to talk about it, of course."

With a shrug, he replied uncomfortably, "No, it's okay. It's…I don't know; I suppose I've just gotten used to it by now. It aches sometimes – usually when the weather changes or when I've been on it too much, but it really does look worse than it feels."

Lois wasn't buying it. She bit her lower lip uncertainly as she scooted down one step so she was seated beside him. Then, turning her head to look into his face, she asked gently, "How did it happen?"

Clark sighed and gazed off into the distance for so long, Lois thought he might not answer her. Finally, he spoke. "You know, I used to resent the fact that I had all those powers; I hated being different, always having to hide what I was, what I could do. I spent years wanting to be normal, more than I wanted anything else."

Looking down at his leg with a wry smile, he continued, "So I guess it's almost ironic that I had such a hard time letting them go." Another sigh followed this remark, and he shifted until he was leaning back against the step behind him, still gazing off into the distance so he didn't have to meet her eyes.

"After I lost my abilities, I was…well, I was ecstatic, really. I never wanted that destiny Jor-El saw for me. When he took all my abilities away, when he made me human, I thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to me; I could have sworn I'd be able walk away and never look back."

"But you couldn't," Lois said softly, and though she meant it as a question, it didn't come out that way.

"No," he said with a humorless chuckle. "I guess I'd just gotten too used to being invulnerable to take a moment to realize I wasn't any longer. So, when I was driving home one night and I heard a radio report about a fire downtown, I didn't even stop to think about it. I just turned the truck around and drove as fast as I could to try to get there in time to help. I never got there, of course. I was going too fast around a turn, and I just lost control."

Finally, he turned and met her eyes as he finished his story. "I don't really remember much after that; I didn't even wake up until the next morning. I didn't realize it was possible to be in so much pain. Four surgeries later, the doctors were still saying I'd probably never walk without a cane again." A shrug, and then he said, "They were wrong. It took months of physical therapy and the help of some of the best doctors in Metropolis, but at least I'm walking."

Lois was looking at him sadly, uncertain of what to say – or even if there was anything to say. Before she'd made up her mind on the issue, he reached out to give her had a quick squeeze. "Don't feel too sorry for me, Lois. It could have been worse. At least I was alone; I don't know how I could have lived with myself if I'd gotten anyone else hurt."

"But how did you –?" she began, but before she could indulge her curiosity about how he lost his powers in the first place, the front door opened and Mr. Kent poked his head outside. "Hey, you two. Martha wanted me to let you know that dinner's going to be ready in just a couple minutes."

"Thanks, Mr. Kent," Lois said as she rose to her feet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Clark awkwardly do the same, and she had to resist the urge to help him to his feet. He clearly didn't like to draw attention to his injury, and she didn't want to cause him any further embarrassment.

In an effort to diffuse the tension lingering between her and Clark after their previous conversation, and aware that the Kents were as curious about her as she was about the differences in them, Lois directed the conversation at dinner to lighter topics. "So we're standing there, just _waiting_ for Perry's reaction, and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have to talk him out of firing at least one of us. But then, just when I had marshaled my best arguments, he turns to Clark, completely straight-faced, and asks, 'By any chance, would either of you know what happened to my pants?'" Laughter erupted around the table at the conclusion to her story, and she looked around at her companions with a grin. It was almost worth it, being taken to this other world, just to have the chance to do this – to enjoy one more meal with all of the Kents she loved. If only the Clark she knew was by her side; if only he could have had the opportunity to witness this with her.

As the laughter had died down, however, Mr. Kent rose and began to gather the dishes to take them to the kitchen. Jumping to her feet, Lois said briskly, "Here, let me do that. You…just, you know, sit there and…take it easy, okay?"

She could have bitten her tongue when she saw the looks the Kents exchanged around the table. They all looked rather surprised and a bit confused by her sudden and perfunctory offer, for which she really couldn't blame them. She could only imagine how the Mr. Kent she knew would have reacted to her suggestion that he take it easy. Actually, she didn't have to strain her imagination too much. The memory of how he'd responded to such suggestions during the last year of his life was still remarkably fresh. And while he'd at least understood the source for everyone's concern, this Mr. Kent probably didn't – and she had absolutely no intention of giving him a full confession.

Backpedaling, she tried to cover for her faux pas. "Uh…It's just that I try to do what I can to help out around here. I was a complete stranger to you all the first time I came to Smallville, but you took me in – even though you certainly didn't have to do so, particularly considering that Clark and I…well, let's just say we'd hadn't met under the most auspicious circumstances. I just…I appreciated everything you did for me, is all, and I don't want you all to think I'm some sort of freeloader."

The Clark who existed only in her memory at this point whispered teasingly in her ear, "You mean you're not?" and, even though she had more or less come to terms with the fact that Clark was in another reality, she was somewhat startled to discover that this version of him didn't follow suit.

Instead, Mrs. Kent said earnestly, "Lois, you don't have anything to prove to us." The words left unspoken between them could fill volumes, but nobody elected to point this out. "As long as you're here, you're welcome to stay in this house, and I can't imagine that we would ever feel otherwise."

"Still, it's important to me. Anyway, I can't help with the cooking, and believe me when I say that you all learned that the hard way. However, I can wash a dish with the best of them." When Mrs. Kent looked about to argue again, she interjected, "Let me do this, Mrs. Kent. Please."

When she saw Martha's reluctant nod of assent, Lois continued clearing the table as everyone dispersed. To her left, Clark stood and moved toward the living room, his parents following. As he went, she heard him say, "I should probably head out soon, but there's a couple things I want to take care of first. Thanks for dinner; I'm sure Lana's sorry that she had to miss it."

"We're sorry she couldn't make it," Martha replied, and Lois began to hum quietly to herself to drown out the rest of her words. Her tenuous grasp on both her sanity and her composure made her reluctant to eavesdrop on any conversation regarding the future Mrs. Kent.

So intent was she on minding her own business, she startled when she heard Mr. Kent's voice behind her. "Martha loves that song, you know. In fact, we danced to it at our wedding."

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she replied, "Yes, I know. Clark loves it, too. That's why we played it at ou- _your_ last anniversary."

Turning back to her task, she shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his regard. She knew he was still looking at her as if trying to uncover her secrets, and she suspected he hadn't cornered her in the kitchen to discuss their mutual taste in music. Indeed, she discovered her dread was warranted when he asked her suddenly, "Lois, is there something you haven't told us about the Jonathan Kent in your world?"


	11. Secrets

Lois caught her breath as she wracked her brain, trying to come up with an acceptable explanation for the odd behavior he must have noticed. Stalling for time, she said, "I don't really know what you mean, Mr. Kent."

"Miss Lane, I may not have met you before yesterday, but I can't help but think there's something you're not telling us." She knew she had fallen silent for too long in response to these words, because he said, a bit irritably, "You're supposed to know all of us pretty well; that means that, whatever it is that you're hiding, you should know that you don't have to protect me!"

"Yes, yes I do," she murmured, too softly for him to hear. When he stepped toward her and asked her to repeat what she'd said, however, she sighed and did so, though she still kept her gaze focused firmly on the dishes she was scrubbing in the sink. "I said I do, actually. I have to protect you. And you may not like it, and you may not understand it, but I don't really give a damn; I'm going to do it anyway."

She still wasn't looking at him, but she was fairly confident that she knew the expression on his face and the body language conveying his irritation in response to her words. She could have painted a picture from the image in her memory, in fact. "Okay…care to tell me why?" he demanded, and, if the subject weren't so serious, she would have smiled at the familiarity of it all.

Instead, she sighed. She knew he was still trying to discern what she was trying to protect him from, but she evaded the question. _Because, for a while, I had the relationship with you that I couldn't have with my own father. Because you took me in, you trusted me, and you told me you were proud of me, even before I'd given you any reason to be. Because I couldn't be there for you, with you, when you needed me the most. Because I loved you, Mr. Kent, and I never got the chance to tell you goodbye._ All of these reasons paraded through her mind, but she could confess to none of them. "Because, Mr. Kent, in another world, you would do the same for me."

"Hey, Dad, could I get your help outside for just a moment?" Clark asked as he peeked his head into the kitchen, interrupting the ongoing conversation, for which Lois was almost pathetically grateful.

Though Jonathan was still fixing Lois with a hard look, he replied shortly, "Yeah, just let me grab my coat." Without another word, he stormed into the other room, and the woman left behind winced. She knew he wasn't happy about her stance on the issue, but he'd get over it. She hoped.

At any rate, she was almost finished with the dishes, so she continued humming softly as the sound of the back door slamming reverberated through the kitchen. Once they'd gone, she felt the muscles in her shoulders lose some of their tension; it was incredibly difficult, having to be careful of everything she said, in case she inadvertently let something slip – particularly since mincing words was not something that had ever come naturally to her.

She had almost finished with the dishes when she heard footsteps from behind her and she turned to throw a smile over her shoulder at Mrs. Kent. "I'm just about done here."

"Lois, how long have you been in love with my son?" The words were spoken so softly, Lois almost didn't hear them, and she was so taken aback by the question that the plate in her hands slipped through her fingers. Luckily, she had just begun to pull it out of the water, so it didn't shatter upon contact with the bottom of the sink. It was then that she decided that she was going to have to stop humming to herself. It seemed to somehow trigger uncomfortable questions directed her way by various members of the Kent clan.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered nervously as she felt herself pale at the question. If she'd thought things couldn't get much worse than having to face Jonathan's curiosity, she'd clearly been wrong. "What makes you think I'm in love with Clark?" Though she was trying to force an air of nonchalance into the question, she could tell her voice sounded too strained to pull it off.

Smiling gently, Mrs. Kent replied, "I paid attention at dinner. You're a wonderful storyteller, Lois, and every single one of your stories featured my son."

"Well, he is my partner," she explained weakly.

"You don't talk about him like he's just your partner," Martha replied implacably. Stepping forward, she asked, "Does he know how you feel, the Clark in your world?"

Lois nibbled on her lower lip as she tried to decide how to respond. "He…we've talked about it," she said carefully, shifting her weight uncomfortably.

The sympathetic look Mrs. Kent threw her way was almost too much to take. "I've noticed you don't talk much about James," she said softly, her eyes filled with concern. "I don't mean to pry, but…is there something you'd like to talk about? I know that I'm not the same person you know, and of course I've never met your fiancé. But if you're having second thoughts about getting married because you're in love with my son and you need someone to talk to, I'm here to listen."

Lois winced at the mention of the man she'd claimed as her fiancé. That was one little white lie – done more or less on the spur of the moment – that she had a feeling she was never going to live down. When Clark had asked her about her fiancé, she'd latched on to the first name that had come to mind of a person she knew well enough to maintain a fictional relationship. The fact that she would, as a consequence, become too mortified by the very idea that she'd never be able to face him (or, for that matter, the Chloe and possibly Clark in her world) again had, unfortunately, not occurred to her until it was too late.

And now her little lie had stuck her with a bigger problem than her future pride. It was obvious what the older woman was thinking – that the attraction Lois had confessed to feeling for Clark was somehow interfering with her engagement, possibly even causing her to rethink the whole thing. Her shoulders sagged in defeat; clearly, she was going to have to divulge some more details before she had the entire Kent clan convinced her arrival on their doorstep was part of a Runaway Bride scenario. She had a feeling she was going to regret not being able to keep the nature of her relationship with the Clark in her reality a secret – her pain at not having him around was too near to the surface; if she began to actually talk about what she'd lost, she was afraid she might not be able to withstand the urge to cry. Still, she'd always hated lying to Mrs. Kent, and she desperately longed for someone with whom she could actually speak honestly. With a resigned sigh, she slowly and deliberately dried her hands on a nearby dishtowel, turned, and said gravely, "You don't understand, Mrs. Kent. I _am_ marrying the man that I love."

Slowly, she twisted the engagement ring off her finger and passed it to the woman beside her. She gave it over reluctantly; she hadn't taken it off when she'd begun to do the dishes because there was a part of her that had begun to worry it would somehow vanish if it left her finger, and she'd be left in this place without any tangible proof of the world she'd left behind. When Mrs. Kent took the offered object, she held both her breath and her tongue as she watched the woman who would be her mother-in-law read the inscription inside.

_True love lasts forever. CK & LL_

As Martha peered at the tiny letters, Lois quoted, "'Some love lasts a lifetime. True love lasts forever.'" With a soft, wistful smile as if recalling some fond memory to mind, she said, "Chloe loves to tease me about it, because I was always pretty vocal that I'd never fall for anyone the way I did Clark, but that's just how things are between us. I mean, don't get me wrong; he drives me crazy sometimes. But even when we're fighting, I can't help but feel like what we have together is somehow stronger than anything else I could possibly imagine. It's greater than either of us alone, more powerful than distance, or death. Or even fate." With a slight start, Lois blushed, realizing how she must have sounded. "Well, anyway, those are the words Clark chose to have engraved."

"They're beautiful," Mrs. Kent murmured as she handed the ring back, an inscrutable look on her face.

Glancing at it, Lois chuckled and said, "Well, it's not like you haven't seen it before. I mean, it was yours, after all."

Amusement twinkled in her eyes as Martha replied, "I thought it looked familiar."

Then, with a slight twist of her mouth as she slipped the ring back on her finger, Lois added morosely, "And, of course, we can't forget that it's identical to Lana's, isn't it?"

Humor melted from Mrs. Kent's gaze, to be replaced by sympathy "Not exactly," she replied softly.

Mrs. Kent didn't elaborate, and Lois didn't ask her to; she really didn't want to talk about Lana right now. Or possibly ever. "Yeah, well, right now, I think this ring may be the only thing keeping me from going stark raving mad," she said ruefully as she ran her thumb along the smooth underside of the band. "It's the only proof I have that my entire relationship with Clark – that is, the Clark in my world – wasn't just a dream or a vivid hallucination. He gave me this ring on the third anniversary of our first official date. He's the man I love, the man I'm going to marry, the man who's waiting somewhere for my return."

Martha Kent was silent in response to this, and Lois could tell she needed some time to process the information. So, instead of hitting her with more details, she walked over to the table to take a seat and gestured for her companion to do the same. Finally, Mrs. Kent asked, clearly confused, "Why haven't you mentioned this before? You told Clark that you were engaged to someone else."

Lois grimaced. "Well, yes. At first, I didn't mention it because I didn't know what was going on, and I thought it might not be entirely prudent to just blurt out the nature of my relationship with Su – your son," she amended at the last minute. She figured Mrs. Kent needed time to process what she'd already heard before she was given any further revelations. After all, it's not every day that you discover that the woman who'd landed so unexpectedly on your doorstep would have been your daughter-in-law in another life. "When I realized that the situation was even far more complicated than I'd originally thought, well," she paused. "It wouldn't change anything; it would just make everyone, particularly Clark, feel even more uncomfortable around me than they already do. So I lied."

Mrs. Kent frowned. "And James is…?" she prompted.

"A friend of mine," came the reply, accompanied by a rueful look. "He works at the Daily Planet with Clark and me; he's a photographer there." When she saw that Martha still wasn't entirely satisfied, she continued, "We're friends, and he's a really sweet guy. He's just not really my type." Upon consideration, she decided against divulging Jimmy and Chloe's relationship. For one thing, it wouldn't do much to make the entire fiasco less bizarre for anyone. More importantly, however, in light of the charade of her own making, it really wasn't something Lois wanted to think too much about.

After her confession, she waited in silence for a reaction. She probably shouldn't have been surprised when the older woman broke her silence by stating, "I think you should tell Clark the truth."

With an exasperated sigh, Lois huffed, "Why, so a situation that's already difficult can become absolutely unbearable? It doesn't change anything, Mrs. Kent. People don't fall into other realities because they get engaged; not even people like Clark and me." She really didn't want to open that can of worms. She knew that, if she confessed to Clark that they were supposed to be engaged, there would be no way to avoid the inevitable conversation. The hold she had on her emotions was already tenuous at best; she didn't think she could bear to talk about them with someone who, by all outward appearances, was identical to the man she'd left behind – except that she didn't see that same love reflected in his eyes when he looked back at her.

"He'd want to know; you know that," Martha pressed, apparently oblivious to the younger woman's inner turmoil.

With a small shake of her head, Lois replied, "Maybe so, but he doesn't need to." Her tone brooked no argument, but that had never stopped Mrs. Kent – or, really, anyone in the Kent family tree, so far as she could tell.

Reaching out to grab her hand reassuringly, Mrs. Kent began, "Lois, I know this must be hard on you –"

Lois interrupted before her companion could speak further. It was obviously a mistake, letting herself get dragged into this conversation. It was clear that Mrs. Kent didn't understand. How could she? Once again, Lois found that she had to remind herself that this wasn't the Martha Kent she knew. "You have no idea how hard this is!" she cried in frustration, pulling her hand away. Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain control of herself, reaching up with one hand to rub her forehead wearily. She had to find a way to get her point across to the woman across the table from her. She had to make Martha understand why she was so desperate to keep her secrets – a difficult chore, since she wasn't even sure she could explain that desire to herself.

After a few more deep breaths, her hand dropped to her lap and she said slowly, "You know, you told me once that you knew you wanted to marry Mr. Kent the first time you met him. That first day, you knew you wanted him to be yours. Well, that's not how it worked with Clark and me. We didn't fall in love at first sight. In fact, we could barely stand each other the first time we met, if you want to be frank about it. He thought I was bossy and annoying, and I thought he was…well, a lot of things, but I definitely thought he was weird – and definitely not my type.

"We'd known each other for _years_ before we fell in love, and, even now, I'm not sure I can really explain how my feelings for him crept up on me the way they did. I never intended to fall in love with him; it was just something that happened, and I didn't even see it coming until it was too late to do anything about it."

Leaning forward, she met Mrs. Kent's eyes and said earnestly, "I have no idea how I got here, or why I fell out of my dimension into this one, or really even what to do now that I'm here. But, no offense, Mrs. Kent…you have no idea what it's like to be standing right next to the man who looks, and acts, and talks like the man you love but isn't." She could feel the tears threaten to fall, and she blinked them back fiercely. She was _not_ going to lose her composure now.

After another few deep breaths to make sure she could maintain the iron grip she had on her emotions, she said, "It took me forever to fall in love with him, and now there isn't a day that goes by that I don't fall in love with him all over again. And you think this is a little hard on me? No offense, but are you crazy? This is _killing_ me! I spent every moment that I'm with him trying convince myself that the man I'm talking to isn't really Clark Kent. Because I can't bear to let myself think that he's the same person."

Her voice was shaking, but she could see that Martha was beginning to understand, so she said rather desperately, "I can only survive living without Clark because this…because your son _doesn't_ know what… He doesn't look at me in the same way my Clark does. He isn't the man I love; I can't have him. But if he did look at me like that – if he looked at me like he understood that he might have someday loved me…don't you understand? I just don't think I could bear it."

A heavy silence fell between them. Finally, Martha whispered, "Lois, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

The younger woman hadn't realized that she'd squeezed her eyes shut as she finished her explanation, but they flew open again at the endearment. By the look on Mrs. Kent's face, it seemed that she had finally come to understand the enormity of the loss Lois felt – the pain inside that was like a live thing, growing so large sometimes that she could barely breathe under the weight of it. Taking a deep breath, she promised, "If it becomes important, if it'll help me get home somehow, I'll tell him. I swear. But until then, please. Let me keep my secrets."

In reply, Mrs. Kent reached forward and clutched her companion's trembling hands. Neither of them spoke again until the back door opened again and Mr. Kent walked into the room. Throwing them a concerned look, he cleared his throat and asked, "Martha? Is something wrong?"

The two women broke apart suddenly, and Lois took the opportunity to jump to her feet. "It's late," she blurted, ignoring the inquiry. She'd had about as much as she could take for one evening; she felt stretched thin, like she might tear in two if anyone asked anything more of her this evening. "I'm going to bed."

Turning her head away, Lois refused to look back as she bolted for the stairs. She didn't want to hear Mrs. Kent's reply to her husband's question. She didn't want to face their pity when they talked about her. Mostly, she didn't want to see what they couldn't entirely hide – their pity that Lois had been separated from the man she was born to love, and their relief that they weren't in the same predicament.


	12. Awakening

He took her in his arms and pulled her closer, and Lois rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh of contentment. When a song began to play softly somewhere, they swayed together to the music.

Lois nuzzled his earlobe. "I missed you," she murmured, and his arms tightened around her.

"I thought I'd lost you," he said with a shudder. "I came when I heard you call, but I couldn't find you anywhere. I was afraid I'd never see you again."

"I'll always find my way back to you," she promised as she wrapped her hand around the back of his head, running her fingers through the black silky strands of his hair. With a slight tug, she pulled his mouth to hers for a deep kiss.

When the embrace ended, Clark grinned down at her before spinning her around. She felt his hand release her as she twirled with a laugh.

When she had whirled around to face him once more, she realized the two of them were no longer dancing under the stars. It was daytime now; sunlight filtered through the trees above, casting bright patterns on the carpet of grass at her feet. Long lines of pews stretched in front of her, with a red carpet strung out between them to make a long aisle that lead to a podium on the far side. Looking down at herself in surprise, Lois saw that she was wearing the wedding gown she had scoured all of Metropolis to find, and she was holding a large bouquet of white roses in her hands.

The sound of her joyful laughter echoed through the trees around her. She had seen Clark standing at the end of the aisle, and as she watched, he turned and threw her a warm smile. She could hardly believe it. It was her wedding day; she wasn't going to miss it, after all!

A sound to her right made her turn to see her father as he approached, offering his arm. "Are you ready?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her questioningly.

She laughed again; she couldn't help it. She was so happy, she felt like she could fly without any help from her fiancé. With a wide grin, she linked her arm through his. "Are you kidding?" she asked, and together, they moved down the aisle.

When the approached the man waiting in front of the podium, he stepped forward and took her hands in his. Bending down, he brushed a kiss across her cheek. "I've been waiting for you," Clark said softly, and the two of them turned toward the official dressed all in black.

Bowing his head, he began to speak. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the presence of these witnesses to lay to rest our daughter, Lois Joanne Lane," he said somberly as he took a step back, and Lois gasped.

The podium disappeared. In its place, she saw a large gaping pit in the ground in front of her. At the bottom of the hole, a long wooden box had been placed, and, though it stood open, Lois had no trouble recognizing it for what it was: a coffin.

"What?" she asked in confusion as she turned her head to gaze at the man by her side with wide eyes. "I don't understand."

He threw her an encouraging smile as he took her hand and stepped toward the pit. "It's okay, Lois. You're dead, you know. It's time."

She tried to pull out of Clark's grasp, but she couldn't move away. Her bouquet fell to the ground at her feet, and she was so transfixed by the open coffin that she didn't even turn when she heard Chloe step forward to stand by her other side. "It's a beautiful wedding," the younger woman remarked sadly as she gave the ground in front of the group a morose look.

"What are you talking about?" Lois demanded, sounding slightly hysterical. "This isn't a wedding, it's a funeral! But I'm not dead!"

"Now, Lois," Chloe said firmly, "Don't be stubborn about this. It's for your own good."

"But I –" she began.

Clark cut her off. "That's right. We have to bury you now. Once you start to thaw, we'll ruin any chance of getting the damage deposit back at the apartment."

Lois shook her head fiercely. "What do you mean, thaw?" she demanded as she resisted their efforts to pull her closer to the open coffin. Her feet slid across the slick grass, and she struggled against the arms binding her. Clenching her hands into fists, she readied herself to deliver a swift elbow into the ribs of the people accosting her.

When she raised her arms, however, she caught sight of the flesh on her hands. It was tinged with blue, and a thin sheen of white frost covered the skin.

With a sob of despair, she finally managed to jerk away from the couple trying to encourage her into the open grave. "No!" she screamed as she spun around to face the assembly. The people filling the pews had their heads bowed in prayer as she darted down the aisle, but when she passed them, they turned and threw handfuls of dirt at her like rice at a wedding.

Lois felt Clark and Chloe reach for her as she sped away, but she somehow managed to escape. Her breath coming in ragged gasps, she reached the far side of the aisle, tripped, and fell heavily to the ground.

She curled into a tight ball and huddled on the spot where she'd landed. She could feel her whole body trembling; she couldn't seem to find the energy to move. Squeezing her eyes shut, she held her breath and waited for her fiancé and her cousin to capture her and drag her back to the open grave. When she didn't feel any hands on her after a long moment, however, she cautiously opened her eyes and looked around.

Nobody seemed to be paying attention to her any longer. Staggering awkwardly to her feet, she looked around and realized that the scene had changed once more. Though she was still outside, all the pews were gone. A large crowd, dressed in black, had gathered, but they all had their backs to her. The low murmur of someone speaking carried over the group, but Lois couldn't quite make out what was being said.

Moving slowly, Lois took a cautious step forward and jerked at the sound of snow crunching underfoot. Tilting her head back, she watched as the flakes drifted lazily from the sky. Swallowing heavily, she looked to the group once more and continued her slow journey forward. "What's going on?" she asked tentatively, but her question went ignored.

Though she'd thought nobody had marked her presence, she realized that the crowd parted as she approached. Still, nobody faced or addressed her as she made her way through the group. With the exception of the low droning she could still hear drifting over the crowd, the only sound that reached her ears was the occasional muffled sniffle from the people she passed.

She was still moving cautiously; nobody seemed ready to accost her, but she wasn't certain she was ready to discover what lay ahead. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she crept through the crowd, and though she knew she should turn and run away, she found herself drawn inexorably forward until only a few people stood in front of her.

When they moved aside, Lois caught her breath. Once again, she was standing in front of a fresh grave. This one was filled, but any doubt she might have carried whose it was supposed to be didn't last long once she saw the headstone engraved with the words "Lois Joanne Lane 1982 – 1998".

"No," she moaned, but it did no good. On the other side of the grave, Clark stepped forward to stand by the edge of the section of overturned earth. He was dressed entirely in black, his clothes and hair lightly dusted with snow.

"Clark." She whispered his name, raising her hand to cover her mouth as she stared at the man she loved with wide eyes.

He didn't seem to have heard her speak as he yanked a fistful of petals off the bridal bouquet in his hands. Staring at the ground at his feet, he sprinkled them over the grave. "I bury everyone I love in the snow," he murmured softly as the petals drifted slowly to the ground.

Lois caught her breath when she heard a soft sob escape his lips, and she watched as tears trickled down his cheeks. "Clark, please," she said desperately. Though she tried to step towards him, wanting to offer him comfort, the pile of overturned earth acted as a barrier that she couldn't seem to move around.

Raising his head, he stared across the grave with unseeing eyes. "Goodbye, Lois," he murmured as he grabbed another fistful of white rose petals.

"No! Clark, I'm here! I'm right here!" she cried. She wanted to reach for him, but she couldn't seem to move.

Bowing hid head again, he addressed the ground at his feet. "You left me," he said softly, and his shoulders began to shake. "You promised me you would never leave me, but you did. And you never came back."

In silence, he continued sprinkling flower petals on the grave until the earth was covered. Then, with a loud sob, he fell to the ground and covered his face with trembling fingers. "Why did you leave me, Lois?"

Suddenly, Lois found herself on the other side of the grave, standing by Clark's side. She surged forward and fell to her knees, reaching towards him in order to pull the distraught man into her arms. "I'm right here!" she cried, but he still didn't hear her. "Clark, I –" She tried to grab on to him, but her hands went straight through his body.

"Clark, please!" she cried, reaching forward again. She tried to grab onto him, but, once again, her hands went through his body. "Listen to me! I'm here," she said through the sobs that shook her body. "I'm here! I'm not dead! I'm right here! Clark!"

She reached for him again, and that was when she realized that her hands had become transparent. Her breath catching in her throat, she looked down at the rest of her body and watched the strange transparency as it began to spread.

"No, please," she moaned, trying once more to grab onto the sobbing man at her side. But she could no longer try to touch him; she had no arms with which to reach. She was quickly disappearing, and, soon, there would be none of her left.

"I'm right here!" she cried, though she knew he still couldn't hear her. "Please, you have to hear me! I'm not dead! Don't give up on me!" She was almost gone now. He couldn't help her; he couldn't even hear her. As the last of her faded away, she realized that there was one more thing she needed to say – the one thing that, even if none of the words she spoke reached him, she needed to tell him. "I love you, Clark. I love you. I love you."

Her words still couldn't reach him, and, finally, she was gone.

With a sharp cry, she bolted upright in bed, her heart racing. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, and it took her a few moments to reorient herself. She was in Clark's old room, not standing next to her own grave. It had just been a bad dream, but, still, the perspiration on her skin made her feel clammy, and her cheeks were wet from the tears she'd shed in her sleep.

She took a few deep measured breaths until she had almost gotten her trembling under control. There was no way she was going to get back to sleep tonight; she didn't even want to. She didn't want to risk revisiting that gravesite.

Throwing off the covers, she jumped out of bed and reached quickly for the robe Mr. Kent had lent her. With a few more deep breaths, she walked towards the dresser against the far wall. Bracing her hands against its solid surface, she leaned forward and peered intently at the image in the mirror hanging on the wall.

She looked terrible. Her hair was plastered to her forehead, her face looked pinched and drawn, and there were dark circles under her eyes – testaments to the difficulty sleeping she'd been suffering under for the last couple of nights. Still, she was alive. She was _alive_.

"You're not dead yet, Lane," she murmured reassuringly to her reflection. It didn't seem entirely convinced, but it wasn't really the thought of her own mortality that was haunting her, stealing her sleep.

She shuddered against the memory of the look on Clark's face as he sobbed beside her grave. Her breath caught as she thought about the pain in his voice when he'd told her goodbye. It was just a dream; she knew it was just a dream. But she also knew that her dream had only reflected the uncertainty and despair that the real man had to be feeling. And the knowledge that there was nothing she could do to alleviate his pain twisted inside her like a knife.

She had to get out of this bedroom, she decided as she thrust herself away from the wall. Everything in this room reminded her of the man she didn't have, and it wasn't doing anything for her sanity or peace of mind. With a quick glance at the clock, she realized it was barely six in the morning. She had plenty of time to contemplate her course of action for the day over a cup of coffee.

When she got downstairs, however, she realized she wasn't the only one up at the crack of dawn. Rather unsurprisingly, Mr. Kent was already moving around the kitchen. She offered him a tight smile when he looked at her inquiringly, and then she lowered herself slowly into a chair and prayed he would refrain from asking her any questions.

Mercifully, her prayers were answers. Though she knew Jonathan was far from blind – he had to see the state she was in – he neither pressed her for answers nor offered her his sympathy. Instead, he wordlessly placed a cup of coffee down next to her left elbow and took his seat at the head of the table.

They sat together for a while in silence as Lois sipped the fortifying drink. Then, when the last vestiges of her nightmare had left her and the slight tremors had stopped, he asked mildly, "Bad dream?" He didn't ask for more, and Lois understood. If she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to force her, but if she needed a friendly shoulder, he was offering to listen. She tried to smile warmly at him in appreciation, but she was afraid it came out a bit too shaky to be completely convincing.

She considered telling him about her dream, which was rapidly fading from memory, in the hopes that talking about it might make it seem less real or less frightening somehow. But before she could speak, an image sprang to mind. When she recalled Clark's desolation as he knelt by her gravesite, her body was wracked with a shudder again, and she just couldn't do it.

Shaking her head, she decided to change the subject. "You know, the last time we sat up like this and talked, just the two of us, I was working on your campaign," she spoke without thinking as the realization struck. When she registered Jonathan's surprise at her comment, however, she could have kicked herself.

"My campaign?" he asked incredulously, eyebrows raised.

"Damn it," Lois breathed, running her fingers through her hair. The exhaustion was obviously taking its toll. But, having let the cat out of the bag, there was no way she was going to be able to avoid the subject. She would have to tell him something. "Your state Senate campaign, Mr. Kent," she said flatly, offering him a sheepish smile.

He clearly wasn't buying it. " _I_ ran for office," he said, his skepticism for the very idea quite clear.

"Yeah, we were all surprised when you got the idea, too, but then we realized you would be pretty amazing at it, given the chance, so…" her voice trailed off and she shrugged.

Jonathan sat back in his chair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "State Senator Kent," he said softly, as if testing the way the words rolled off his tongue. Fixing his attention back on her, he said firmly, "But I take it I didn't win."

Rather than inform him otherwise and risk having to explain that he'd died before he could take office, she prevaricated, "It _was_ the first campaign I'd ever managed. You can't expect me to have been very good at it, can you?"

Sitting back in his chair, he got a faraway look in his eyes as he considered this revelation. Clearly still amused by the suggestion, he mused, "Really? Of course, I don't know you very well, but I think you were probably better at it than you give yourself credit for being."

Lois laughed. "Obviously, you haven't been introduced to my inability to keep my opinions to myself," she said with a wry smile. "It's been known to get me into trouble. Fairly often, in fact. I swear, there were times you just didn't know what you were going to do with me."

With a chuckle, he replied, "I can believe it." Then, after a pause, he said reflectively, "But I bet he's very proud of you."

"I –I hope so," she replied, her voice catching in her throat.

Mister Kent fixed her with a considering look, but he stood without a word, breaking the awkward tension that had suddenly fallen between them. Heading towards the sink to rinse out his coffee mug, he said, "By the way, I'm not sure Martha had the chance to tell you last night, but Clark's on his way. He's going to take Martha and me up to Metropolis for a little while. He'll be back tonight, and Martha and I will return in the morning." At her curious look, he cleared his throat uncomfortably and explained, "My heart isn't what it used to be. It's nothing to worry about; I just have to have some tests done every so often. Anyway, do you think you'll be okay here by yourself? Of course, you're welcome to come along, if you want."

Lois shook her head as she rose to her feet. "No, thanks. I'll be okay here." When he followed up by asking if there was anything she wanted them to pick up from Metropolis, she shook her head again. While there were a thousand things she wished she could get from her apartment, the apartment she shared with Clark near the Daily Planet wasn't exactly theirs any longer. "I don't really need anything. I'll probably just spend my afternoon doing more investigating. It's not like I have a lot of other things to focus on."

Jonathan nodded as the back door was flung open and Martha stepped inside. "Good morning, you two. Jonathan, Clark's here. We should get going or we'll be late," she admonished gently as he stood and slung his coat over his shoulders. "Lois, do you want to come out and say hello?"

 _"I bury everyone I love in the snow."_ As the memory of her nightmare returned, the smile she always got when she heard Clark's name slipped from her face as if it had never existed. Shaking her head abruptly, she jumped to her feet. "No, I-I should probably go get dressed. I'll see you when you get back," she said as she shot a desperate glace at the back door. The last thing she needed right now was to see Clark right now, and she was worried he might come investigate what was taking his parents so long if they didn't leave soon.

She turned to bolt for the door, but Jonathan's voice stopped her before she could make good her escape. "Okay. Well, Clark's cell number's on the fridge, if you need to get in touch with us for anything."

With a grateful smile, she watched as Martha and Jonathan made their way to the door, but he paused once more before leaving. "You know, Lois, there is one thing I wanted to tell you. I was thinking about your situation last night, and I wonder…I wonder if maybe you're not here for a reason." When her brow furrowed in confusion at his words, he shrugged. "I don't know; it was just a thought."

After he and Martha had left, and Lois stood in the middle of the Kent's kitchen and pondered his words. Though it hadn't occurred to her before, he had a point; there was one possibility she had overlooked. Maybe her trip to an alternate dimension wasn't just an accident. Maybe someone had planned it; maybe someone had caused it. And there was only one person she could think of who would have both a motive for doing away with Lois Lane and the cunning to succeed in such a fashion. Lex Luthor.


	13. Interude II: Helpless

**Day Two**

Clark put his hand on the door and gently pushed it open, smiling when he caught sight of the woman on the other side. It was Lois; she was standing with her back to him, her hands resting gently on the balustrade that wrapped around the roof of the Daily Planet. As he walked towards her, she turned to him with an impish grin and spun around so he could admire her dress. "Looking for me, handsome?"

"I knew you'd be here," he replied as he stepped up behind her while she turned to gaze at the city lights twinkling around them. "You look beautiful," he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest. "We should head back," he said after a moment, resting his chin on her shoulder as he nuzzled her neck. "It is our engagement party, after all."

Tilting her head back, she gazed up at the moon shining down upon them both. "I'll head down soon," she replied as she shifted to huddle even closer against his body. "You should go, though. You're going to be late."

He squeezed her tighter, unwilling to let her go. "It'll be fine," he reassured her.

"If you're sure," she replied doubtfully as she turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her so she could capture his mouth in a kiss. Running one hand slowly up her spine, he swept his palm under her cascade of hair and caressed the back of her neck, deepening the kiss. Everything about her – her scent, the taste of her mouth against his, the soft touch of her hands as she ran them down his chest – was intoxicating, and he never wanted the moment to end.

Moving his hands to her hips, he clutched her convulsively for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her gently against his body. When he moved his hand against the small of her back, however, he brushed his hand against something damp and sticky, so he pulled away from the woman in his arms just far enough to bring his hand closer to his face. He let out a cry when he realized his hands were covered in blood, and his horrified gaze shot to the woman he'd been kissing mere moments before.

Her skin was pale, almost white in the moonlight. Her bloodless lips were tinged blue, and the pupils of her eyes had gone cloudy. Sweeping his horrified gaze down her body, he realized that the entire front of her dress was saturated with blood. Lois was dead.

With a mournful sigh, she fixed her sightless eyes on his face and murmured softly, "See? I told you that you were going to be too late. You should have hurried." Scooting out of his reach, she swept past him on her way to the door.

"Oh, my god, Lois! Lois, wait! No!" he cried as he reached for her, but she was gone. Clenching his trembling hands into fists, he turned and bolted through the doorway after her. As the door slammed behind him, he found himself in his mother's kitchen in Smallville. Looking around desperately, he saw nobody in the room, but a soft sound traveled faintly to his ears. Someone was quietly sobbing, terrified and in pain; though he didn't know where it was coming from, he knew who it was. Lois. She needed him.

Crying out her name, he ran through the house, opening an endless series of doors to find nothing on the other side. The cries were growing fainter with each failed attempt; he was losing her.

Finally, behind the last door he threw open, he found something more than black emptiness. Chloe was on the other side, staring intently at him. "Chloe, where's Lois?" he demanded, grabbing her fiercely by the arms.

"She's not here," Chloe replied flatly. "She's gone." He tried to speak, but he couldn't make a sound as she stared at him with accusing eyes. "You told her you loved her, Clark. You told her you would always be there for her."

"I-I tried!" he managed to choke out finally. "I swear, I flew as fast as I could!"

"You were too late!" She was screaming at him now, advancing towards him menacingly, her entire body shaking in anger. As he stumbled backwards, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the condemnation on her face. "Where were you when she needed you, Clark? She called for you, and you never came! You never even deserved her, and now you've lost her! She's gone, and it's all your fault!"

He wanted to protest, but it was true. The cries had completely faded. Lois was gone.

Clark let out a cry as he bolted upright in bed. Without even taking the time to look around and reorient himself, he shot towards the nearby window like a bullet out of a gun. Once outside, he flew high in the sky, moving farther and farther from the earth below. As the atmosphere thinned and the temperature dropped, he slowed and raised trembling hands to his face.

He'd spent the last two days scouring the area, and there was still no sign of her. He'd even put every superhero or quasi-superhero on high alert – those that knew about his secret identity had been more than willing to help Clark track down his missing fiancée, and those that didn't had been equally as eager to help him track down the reporter who was so important to Superman.

As the cold stole the last vestiges of sleep, he reminded himself fiercely that it had been a dream. That was all. It wasn't real. Still, though he refused to believe that Lois was dead, every time he closed his eyes, he saw her in front of him: tears running down her face, scared and in pain, and he was helpless to save her.


	14. Suspicion

Clark sighed heavily as he beheld the sight in front of him. He'd spent the morning at the hospital, accompanying his parents while his father had some tests done on his heart, but he had one quick stop to make before he headed back to Smallville. Chloe had called him the night before to tell him she had some information he might be interested in, and though he was curious to discover what she had to show him, he couldn't help but wince when he saw the Herculean trial he would have to overcome in order to reach his destination.

The flight of stairs in front of him appeared endless; it seemed inevitable that Chloe would have to live on the top floor of her apartment building. Stairs weren't impossible for him to scale, of course, but he always tried to avoid taking them when there was any other option. There was no way he would be able to hide his infirmity as he conquered each laborious step.

Scowling in resignation, he began his arduous climb, letting his right leg do all the work as it carried him from one step to the next before lifting his left to join it. He was thankful the apartment building had installed a sturdy banister; it supported his weight when he had to lean heavily upon his lame leg as he climbed. He took his time ascending to the third floor; not terribly long ago, he'd let his foolish pride talk him into trying to take the stairs at the Talon at a less conservative pace. When his left leg had buckled under the strain and sent him careening down the steps to the ground below, it had set him back a few grueling hours of physical therapy and hurt enough to cause him to clench his teeth to stifle a cry of pain. No, as galling as it was, it was worth taking his time.

As he made the slow climb, Clark let his mind wander to his parents' strange behavior earlier that day during the long drive to Metropolis. Only a few minutes into the drive, when he'd casually asked after their houseguest, they'd exchanged a look that probably spoke volumes to someone who was aware of the pertinent subtext but was completely incomprehensible to him. Then his dad had admitted that she'd suffered from a nightmare the night before, and his mom had asked him to check in on her while the two of them were out of town.

He didn't know why this set off an alarm bell in his head, exactly. It wasn't like he had any reason to feel slightly guilty for asking after her; it was a perfectly natural thing to do. Still, he cleared his throat and pointedly avoided the subject of Lois for the rest of the drive. The last thing he wanted was to give anyone the impression that he had more than a polite interest in their mysterious visitor, after all.

When he finally reached the top floor, he made his way to Chloe's apartment door and knocked, trying to restrain his impatience as he waited for her to answer. Finally, the door was flung open and he offered a slightly uncomfortable smile to the woman on the other side. Unusual circumstances had brought the two of them together, but they were still strangers, whatever Lois claimed them to be in her world. "Hey," he said awkwardly.

"Clark!" she cried with a smile that matched his own as she gave a quick glance over his shoulder. "You're earlier than I expected. Um…come on in!" Taking a step back, she gestured him through the door and closed it behind him. After a few minutes of pointless smalltalk, she cleared her throat, picked up a stack of papers, and said, "Okay, so you're probably wondering why I asked you to come by. Well, for one thing, I've done some of that research on alternate realities that Lois wanted, and, since I won't be able to get down there until at least tomorrow, I thought you could take it to her."

Intrigued, he took the papers she offered him and began to rifle through them. "Oh? Were you able to find anything useful?"

With a frown, she said regretfully, "Not really. I mean, there's a lot of stuff out there, but most of it really isn't very helpful. Most of the stuff I've come across is really just sci-fi speculation. I did find some theoretical research that goes into quantum mechanics, M-theory, stuff like that, but the problem is that it's just that. Theoretical. None of the stuff that I've come across – with the exception of some extremely creative pieces of fiction – has actually suggested a way to travel _between_ alternate universes, or even that such a thing is possible."

Clark sighed. Of course, they'd known it was going to be a long shot, but it was still disappointing to realize that they'd hit a dead end. "Okay," he said finally, pulling his attention away from the research in his hands. "But you could have told me all that over the phone. So, no offense, but why the insistence that I meet you here?"

Chloe looked away from him, a guilty expression on her face. "Well, um…," she paused and then shot him a furtive glance out of the corner of her eye. "Okay, so I have to admit that I was a little curious about this other life that Lois is supposed to have, so I did some…um…investigating."

Raising his eyebrows at her, Clark asked, "Investigating? What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just that there are a lot of things we don't really know about her, do we? And some of what she says just doesn't seem…it doesn't seem right, somehow. She said she's a reporter, but the Lois I knew couldn't have been _less_ interested in journalism. She's engaged, but I asked her about her fiancé, and she avoided the subject like the plague. A lot of things just don't add up with her."

"You think she's lying to us?" Clark asked, his brow furrowing. He'd had the feeling that there were some things she was hiding from them all, of course, but he'd also assumed that she had her reasons. Since he had clearly entrusted her to keep his secrets in another reality and she had apparently done so successfully for quite some time, he even imagined it had become something of a habit for her. Sure, he'd suspected that there were some things she wasn't telling him. But he also suspected that there was a part of him that didn't necessarily want to know the truth.

As it was, he had a feeling he was going to miss Lois when she went away – a lot more than he should, in fact, considering he'd only known her for forty-eight hours.

Unaware of Clark's internal struggle, Chloe nodded slowly. "I _know_ she is." When he looked at her curiously, she cleared her throat and shot him a guilty look.

Before she could explain, the front door opened and a young man with short light brown hair and blue eyes walked into the room. He was carrying a carrier with two travel cups of coffee with a Starbucks label, a paper bag perched between them. "Hey, Chloe," he said, meeting her eyes with a wide smile. "Sorry it took me so long. There was –" He paused, swallowing visibly as he took in the sight of Clark, towering over him. "Uh…is this a bad time?" he asked nervously.

"Jimmy!" Chloe all but yelped, her cheeks coloring. "No, this is fine. I just…uh…this is Clark. He's…ah…" At this, she stammered to a halt, clearly unable to find the words to adequately describe their situation.

"Your boyfriend?" Jimmy asked, clearly not thrilled about the idea.

Stepping forward, Clark rescued the cups his companion was carrying. It didn't take a particularly imaginative mind to see that, in his distraction, Jimmy was about to let at least one of them topple and spill all over his shirt. "No!" Clark said quickly as he turned and placed the carrier gently on the desk beside him.

"Thanks. So…um….is he your bodyguard, then?" Jimmy offered humorously with a smile that was still more nervous than amused.

Chloe chuckled. "No. He's…well, he's a friend of a…a friend of mine. She's going through a hard time right now, and we were just talking about what we could do to help."

Visibly relieved, Jimmy relaxed, a genuine smile crossing his face. "Oh, that's cool. I mean, not about your friend. I just meant…" Coloring, he cleared his throat and tried again, "I should introduce myself. I'm James Olsen."

"Clark Kent," he said, shaking the offered hand.

An awkward silence fell between them, and then Chloe asked, "Jimmy, could you give us a minute?"

"Oh, yeah! Sure! I'll…uh…be in the kitchen." With another smile in Chloe's direction, Jimmy brushed past her and walked into the other room.

Once he was gone, she turned back to her companion, looking guilty once more. "Like I said, I did some investigating. Of course, it's not exactly easy to check out someone from an alternate reality, but I was curious, so I went to the Daily Planet. That's where I met Jimmy. Don't you see? There is absolutely no way that the two of them are engaged. I don't care _what_ reality they're in; there is no way _that_ guy," pausing, she threw a significant look towards the kitchen, "is her type."

Following her gaze with his own, he said skeptically, he said slowly, "I don't know, Chloe. It doesn't seem like you have a lot to go on, here."

"I know," she admitted. "But I'm sure I'm right. Just think about it! Why would she be so reluctant to discuss her fiancé, unless she made it up for some reason and there really isn't one?"

Clark frowned, rubbing the back of his neck as he though about Chloe's words. He couldn't deny that he found it hard to imagine the woman staying at his parents' house engaged to the man waiting in Chloe's kitchen. Still, he thought about the look on her face when she'd stood with him on the front porch to his parents' house and talked about the man she'd left behind. Maybe James Olsen wasn't the guy, but he didn't have a doubt that there was someone waiting for her somewhere.

He thought about the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the man she loved, and then he thought about the looks he'd caught her directing his way whenever he came into the room – looks that crumpled into an almost unbearable sorrow when he caught her eye. Sucking a deep breath between clenched teeth, he stared at the petite blonde in front of him with wide eyes. Suddenly, all the pieces he'd been trying to ignore fell into place. "No, I think you're wrong. She is engaged, Chloe," he said in a strangled voice. "And I think I know to whom."

It was him. He couldn't say exactly what made him think that, but he knew he was right. Incredible as it was to believe, in another world, _he_ was engaged to Lois Lane.


	15. Enemy

For a man paranoid about security – and for good reason – Lex never had managed to properly fortify the Luthor Mansion, even when he'd been in residence. His efforts at both Luthorcorp and the tower he inhabited in Metropolis were much more effective, Lois reflected, though she couldn't begrudge his oversights here in Smallville. She was trying to break in, after all.

Not that she honestly expected to stumble across anything truly incriminating. The Lex Luthor she knew had grown adept at hiding his darker secrets, and she should know. She had spent an inordinate amount of time over the course of her career trying to uncover them. Still, it was worth a shot, and she had no doubt she'd have better luck breaking into the mansion than she would any of the more heavily guarded Luthorcorp holdings.

Her eagerness to pursue what could be a solid lead was a trial on a patience that had never really been all that stalwart to begin with. Still, it was going to be risky enough to sneak into this bastion of Luthor pomposity under the cover of darkness; it would be foolhardy in the extreme to try it when the sun was still high in the sky.

While she was resigned to having to while away the hours until dusk, Lois refused to waste the entire day. Thankfully, Mr. Kent had lent her the keys to his truck, so she wasn't left without transportation. Chloe and Clark had offered their assistance, and she had every faith that they would come through for her. Still, it was time for her to do a little digging of her own.

It wasn't hubris that gave Lois the impression she was an exceptional reporter. Everyone in the world who knew of the Daily Planet knew of the journalistic powerhouses that were its star reporters: Lois Lane and Clark Kent. As such, it had been a long time since Lois had found herself trying to track down a lead without a the assistance of solid contacts, informants, or even a group of nosy gossipmongers eager for a shot at fifteen minutes of fame. It was a bit jarring to be faced with the knowledge that the name that carried such weight in her world got her absolutely nothing in this one.

In her world, it would have taken nothing more than a simple phone call. In some cases, seven little words – "Lois Lane, here. I need some information." – were sufficient to goad people into all but tripping over themselves to give her whatever she needed. And their capitulation wasn't due entirely to her finely-honed journalistic chops. Frankly, stories of people who had tried to cross Lois Lane and somehow survived the experience were legendary in some circles.

Here, her reputation carried no such currency. It wasn't exactly like she could sashay her way into Smallville Electric, introduce herself as a dead woman, and demand information. Luckily, irrelevant of the peculiarities of the universe in which she found herself, Lois had one thing going for her: she was every bit as good at getting information as she was purported to be.

It took her rather longer than it would have done, back in her world, but when she reemerged though the front doors of Smallville's electrical plant, it was in victory. She had shamelessly flattered a man named Dennis for a frankly obscene amount of time, and, in return, he had promised to get her the information she requested by the end of the following day. Actually, he'd made the vow to her breasts, which he hadn't once stopped ogling from the moment she walked through the door, but Lois still had every reason to believe he'd follow through.

He'd better, she thought with a scowl as she crossed her arms over her chest and shook off the lingering desire to smack his eyes back into his face. Because otherwise, she was going to flatten him.

With a quick glance at the sky, she realized that it was getting dark; it was time to head over to the Luthor Estate. Hopping in the truck, she sped towards the mansion, pulling over to park about a half mile away. She needed to keep the truck close enough to make a quick getaway if it came down to that (and it frequently came down to that), but she didn't want to raise suspicion by parking it closer. So, after a quick jog to her destination, she crouched in some brush on the outskirts of the property and waited for her chance to sneak onto the grounds.

It took some time, and a bit more of that patience she had in such scarce supply, but she finally managed to slip past the guards and make her way through the front doors. Holding her breath, she darted down the hall and through the door to Lex's inner sanctum.

Without bothering to take the time to rethink her actions, Lois bolted towards the bookshelves inlaid against the far wall and crouched down in front of them, sliding her fingers deftly along the wooden panels until she felt the spring that would reveal the hidden safe she knew lay behind. Biting her lower lip, she prayed silently to anything that might be watching over her that she had the right combination. With a sigh of relief, Lois heard the bolts to the safe door slide aside, and she turned the handle and pulled open the door. There were certain advantages, she decided, to performing an investigation in another reality. Unlike the Lex Luthor in her world, the lord of this household had no way of knowing she'd cracked his code ages ago.

With one last look over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't about to be discovered, Lois grabbed the stack of files secreted inside the safe and rifled through them. It didn't take her long to realize she'd struck out; while there were a number of things that could be considered "interesting" among her pilfered items, there was nothing that so much as alluded to teleportation between realities. Her name wasn't even mentioned in passing.

It was a bit galling, that. The Lex Luthor in her world had probably denuded entire rainforests with various schemes to bring down Clark Kent and Lois Lane. Considering the number of times her investigations had thwarted his plans, she was probably the person he hated most in the world…after Clark Kent and Superman, of course.

Still, this probably wasn't the time to ponder Lex's foiled plots in the past – not when there could be a far more pertinent one she had yet to uncover in the present. Scowling, she was about to take a second look through the stack, just to make sure she hadn't overlooked anything, when a sound from the hallway behind her caught her attention. Someone was coming.

Swallowing a gasp, Lois tossed the files back into the safe and shut the door, unable to make more than a half-hazard attempt at replacing them in such a way as to hide her tracks. Then, as she heard the doorknob start to turn, she glanced around desperately and darted behind Lex's desk as the wooden panel hiding the safe slid home.

Curling into a ball, she made herself as small as possible in her makeshift hiding spot, knowing it wouldn't be too long before she was discovered. She figured she had two minutes at the most before Lex – or someone who worked for him – went to sit down, found her lurking behind his desk, and had her pretty butt hauled off to jail for trespassing. In her mind, she imagined the awkward phone conversation that would inevitably follow. "By the way, Mrs. Kent, when I confessed that I was engaged to your son, did I happen to mention I have a remarkable propensity for getting myself into trouble? While we're on the subject, I don't suppose you could come bail me out of prison, could you? I really don't look very good in stripes."

Just when she was envisioning what she would do when that same pretty butt of hers was traded to a large woman named Helga for a pack of cigarettes and an extra biscuit at dinner, something caught her attention. The footsteps she heard were uneven, like the person who had just entered the room was staggering under a heavy weight. Or walking with a limp.

When she peeked around the corner of the desk, her suspicions were confirmed. Jumping to her feet, she demanded, "Clark! What are you doing here? Do you know how much you just freaked me out?"

Clark was clearly more than a little surprised to see her. "Lois!" At her accusing glare, he explained, "I'm here to talk to Lex. What are you doing here?"

Breathing out an exasperated sigh, Lois moved around the desk and over to his side. "Just doing a little investigative journalism, Kent. What did you want to talk to Lex about?"

Looking supremely uncomfortable, he replied, "Well, he is a friend of mine, Lois. There are just a couple things I wanted to discuss with him."

Lois felt her jaw drop; she couldn't believe her ears. This Clark was still friends with Lex Luthor? Was he insane? "About what? About me? And anyway, are you out of –?"

Her question was cut off when the door behind Clark was flung open and Lex himself stepped inside. "Clark, sorry to keep you waiting. Some last minute business came up and I couldn't get away." Noticing Lois, he offered her an ingratiating smile and stepped forward to offer her his hand as he said, "But it doesn't look like you were too bored in my absence. I don't think we've met. Lex Luthor."

Swallowing her immediate knee-jerk reaction – which was to avoid touching Lex Luthor whenever possible, she took his hand and shook it. "Lois Lane," she offered in return before it occurred to her that it would be more prudent to give him a nom de plume. Well, it was too late to worry about that now.

Besides, one thing was clear: she'd better take control of the conversation, fast. She didn't know what Clark had been intending to discuss with Lex, but, on the off chance she was right to assume it had something to do with her unusual circumstances, she had to make sure he didn't get the opportunity. He might trust Lex, but that didn't mean she was fool enough to follow suit.

"Sorry to barge in on you like this, Mr. Luthor," she gushed, stepping towards him suddenly and tilting her head down so that she could throw him a coy smile. "But when Clark told me that the two of you were friends, I couldn't resist asking him to bring me here. I've always been a big fan of yours, you see."

Clark was going to pay for this, she vowed as she leaned closer to him and tried her hardest to portray an air of fawning adulation. Even if she were somehow transported back to her reality in the next thirty seconds, she'd make the Clark of her world pay for this. It was demoralizing, pretending to be awestruck by her greatest enemy.

She didn't know if the situation was made better or worse when Lex's eyes lit up as he gazed at her. Clearly, he was buying her act, which was something. He was also looking extremely interested, which was something else entirely. Somehow, it had never even occurred to her that he might have found her attractive, if the two of them had met under different circumstances.

She clenched her jaw to stifle her reaction as Lex moved even closer. He was grasping her hand a little longer than was strictly necessary as he murmured softly, "It's nice to meet you, Miss Lane. Any friend of Clark's is welcome here."

Thankfully, Clark took that moment to intervene. Apparently, while this version of her fiancé was apparently too stupid to realize Lex wasn't to be trusted, he wasn't a complete idiot. He stepped forward and placed his hand possessively on Lois's arm as he said sternly, "Anyway, I don't want to take up too much of your time. I just thought I'd stop by to give Lois here a chance to say hi, but we'd better be getting back soon." Giving Lex a pointed look, he explained, "Lois is staying with my parents, and I have some things I need to get done before they get home."

Lois noticed the assessing look Lex gave the hand resting on her arm, and she felt her stomach drop. Just what she needed: Lex Luthor intrigued by her relationship with Clark. Though he suddenly changed the subject of the conversation and asked about the welfare of both the Kents and Lana Lang, the speculation didn't completely fade from his gaze. So, as soon as she could manage without drawing even more attention to herself, Lois said her goodbyes and grabbed Clark's hand as she all but dragged him from the room.

"Way to almost blow it, Kent!" she hissed angrily as he escorted her to his truck, which was parked in Lex's driveway. "What exactly did you think you were doing?"

Scowling, Clark climbed onto the seat next to her and asked caustically, "Me? What about you? Let me remind you, _I_ wasn't the one flirting with him."

Lois threw him a flabbergasted look. "Yeah? So?"

Clark jerked the truck around a sudden curve in the road and shot a quick glare Lois's way. He was clearly furious, which was fine as so was she, though apparently for different reasons. But his anger came as something of a surprise. She'd indulged in what she hoped would be a harmless flirtation with Lex in order to distract him from discovering what she'd actually been doing at his house. She supposed she could understand Clark being a little upset that she'd taken such a risk, but he seemed to be overreacting. It was almost as if he was jealous – which was, of course, absurd, considering. "So, what would your fiancé think about the fact you were all but throwing yourself at Lex ten minutes ago?" he asked harshly.

The very idea was almost laughable; indeed, Lois felt a wry smile twitch at the corners of her mouth. "First of all, believe me when I say he knows that I would never cheat, and even if I did, the last person on Earth I'd ever cheat on him with would be Lex Luthor. Secondly, he would trust me. He would also know exactly what I was doing. And, incidentally, what's it to you, anyway?" she shot back in return, her eyes flashing. She really didn't like being put on the defensive.

Clark frowned, but he didn't seem to have an immediate answer to that. He opened and shut his mouth without actually producing any sound a couple of times, and then he said flatly, "Nothing, of course." Then, as he finally slid the truck to a stop in front of his parents' house, he turned the tables back on her. Throwing her a fierce glare, he demanded, "And what, exactly, was it that you were doing, Lois? Do you have any idea what Lex would have done if he'd caught you? If I hadn't been there? At the very least, he'd have had you arrested, and what exactly would you tell everyone when they stumbled across the fact that you're supposed to be dead?"

"I would have handled it, Clark," she said firmly. "Hard though this may be for you to believe, I've been handling Lex Luthor a lot longer than you have. So why don't you back off?"

Clearly, he had no intention of doing so. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

It was just too much. How could he not know? The last vestiges of her temper slipped away from her, and she felt herself begin to tremble as she whirled on him. "It means what the hell do you mean, he's your friend? Don't you know how dangerous it is for you to be so close to him? Have you conveniently forgotten the lies, the investigations?"

"He doesn't have much to investigate anymore, does he?" Clark interjected.

"That's not the point!" she yelled in return. "I'm sure he's had his suspicions about you; things may be different in this reality, but they're not _that_ different. And he will never give up, _never_ , until he gets those answers he's been so desperately searching for. Do you have any idea what he would do to you if he ever found out the truth about you? I don't _care_ that you can't do those things anymore, and neither would he!"

Taking a deep breath, she tried to get control of herself as she continued in a gentler tone, her voice still shaking with the force of her emotion, "He'd lock you up in a lab, Clark. He'd lock you up, and he'd never let you go. It doesn't matter that you can't do those things any longer; the mere fact that you once could would be enough for him."

Clark shook his head. "Lois, whatever problems you have with the Lex you know, the man I know isn't that guy. Yes, he had his suspicions about me. But that was a long time ago. I think I can safely say that he has more than adequate proof that I'm not what he thought I was."

Running her hand through her hair, Lois realized she'd never be able to convince Clark that her words were true. She had no reason to believe her, and she had no way to convince him. With a soft sigh, she shook her head slowly and said regretfully, "I hope so, Clark. For your sake." Considering the argument finished, she threw open the passenger door and hopped out of the truck. It was only as she did so that she realized she'd been so distracted by their argument, she completely forgotten to return to the Kents' truck. She'd have to find a way to pick it up later.

Then she saw what was awaiting her in the Kents' driveway, and she rushed forward with an exultant cry. "My car!"

As she ran a hand lovingly across the hood, she heard Clark walk up behind her. "Yeah, I got a call from Harry at the garage earlier today; he said he'd finished doing the repairs and he was going to have it brought out here."

Fishing around in her pockets, Lois finally found the ring of keys she'd been carrying around for no explicable reason, except that it was a hard habit to break, and there was something comforting about having those mundane items ready at hand. Even if they were useless. Darting around the back of the car, she slid the key into the lock on the trunk and popped it open.

It was crammed full. There were boxes of decorations for a party she'd missed, random last-minute purchases for the wedding, and a couple small bags of clothes she always kept in her trunk for emergencies. There were also three accordion folders full of her notes on the stories she had been working on for the paper, a bag of emergency supplies – Lois always tried to be prepared for any eventuality (and the bag had certainly come in handy over the course of her previous investigations), and, of course, the large binder filled with the various details of her wedding.

"Need help grabbing anything?" Clark asked as he came around the side of the car to stand next to her. At the sound of his voice, she lunged forward and snatched the binder before her companion could beat her to it.

"Um, yeah!" she said brightly, clutching it to her chest as she tried to move the boxes of decorations aside so she could get to her bags. It was awkward, trying to rearrange things while she had one arm pressed tightly to her chest, and Clark moved to help her when he realized the difficult time she was having.

What had been hard to accomplish with one hand wasn't much improved with three, particularly since they were working in such a small space. She wasn't entirely sure how it happened, but somehow, Clark accidentally nudged her with his elbow and the binder she'd been trying so hard to hide slipped out of her arms and hit the ground. Papers skittered out across the driveway, and Lois dove to try to catch them all before the man next to her could get a closer look.

"I'm sorry," he was saying contritely as he bent to help her pick up the mess. "Here, let me help."

Snatching a piece of paper out of his reach before he could quite manage to grab onto it, she said breathlessly, "No, no. Really, it's fine. Don't worry about it; I can handle it." As quickly as she could, Lois shoved them all back into the binder, heedless of the meticulous system of organization she'd been trying to maintain.

Lois breathed a sigh of relief as she glanced around quickly. She had somehow managed to gather all the incriminating pieces of paper, with Clark none the wiser about the true nature of her engagement. Clutching her binder tightly to her chest, determined not to make such a potentially catastrophic mistake again, she turned and was on her way towards the front door to the house when Clark's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Lois, why didn't you tell me you were engaged to m-Clark?"

Stumbling slightly, she came to a halt, her breath lodged somewhere in the middle of her throat. "Oh," she finally managed to reply stupidly, unable for the moment even to process how monumentally more complicated her situation had just become. She didn't know how she'd been caught in her lie, but it was clear it wasn't going to be easy for her to dig her way out of this situation – particularly since she knew her reaction over the last few seconds had done nothing to undermine Clark's suspicions. Turning slowly on her heel, she looked at the man who was so much like the one she loved. "Crap."


	16. Engagement

Clark followed Lois inside and switched on the light as she strode immediately over to the living room windows and gazed blindly at her reflection in the glass. He couldn't see her expression from where he was standing, so he shifted his position so he could look at her profile. She was clearly distressed; her face was pinched and drawn, and a deep frown creased her brow. As he watched, she ran a hand through her hair, sighed heavily, and then brought her hand to her mouth and bit lightly on her thumbnail.

It seemed to take a while to realize he was even there, and when she finally did, she turned to him with a wry smile. "Sorry," she murmured softly, her gaze skittering away from his. He hadn't really noticed before, but with the light shining on her face, he realized just how tired she looked. There were dark circles under her eyes as dark as bruises, and her skin was so pale as to be almost white, even in the relatively poor lighting emitting from the nearby lamp.

Looking down at her feet, she shifted her weight and asked heavily, "So, how did you find out? About me and Clark, I mean?"

With an apologetic smile, he tried to think of an explanation that wouldn't quite be a lie but also wouldn't force him to flatly confess that it had been little more than a wild guess. "It was…a hunch," he said a bit awkwardly.

"Not an investigative reporter, huh?" she asked wryly, turning away from him so she could pace back and forth in front of the living room sofa. Her agitation was clear; her movements were quick and jerky, her breathing rapid. She repeatedly ran her hands through her hair as she muttered quietly to herself. Finally, turning on him accusingly, she demanded, "I mean, would you believe that I'm somehow managed to keep your secret from the rest of the world for years now, but I can't seem to keep a secret from any member of your family for seventy-two hours?"

He knew it was a strange reaction, but he had to smile. She sounded so accusatory, as if it were his fault for having figured her secret out. However, since he finally had her attention for the moment, he gave her a searching look and took a deep breath. There was still part of him that wondered if he wasn't making a terrible mistake – not in his conclusions, but in his desire for more information. He couldn't help it; he knew it was really none of his business. He knew it probably would upset her to talk about the man she loved and had lost, albeit temporarily. He knew he probably didn't really want to know what his day-to-day life with Lois would have been like – not when he felt guilty enough as it was for even wondering.

Still, he wanted to know. He _had_ to know. "Tell me about it?" he asked softly, pushing the question of why that was, exactly, aside.

Lois's eyes skittered away for a moment, but then she sighed and greeted his gaze once more. "A-Are you really sure that's such a good idea, Clark?" she asked uncertainly. "I mean, it's not like my engagement to Clark really had anything to do with whatever brought me here."

"So far as you know," he pointed out. Then, seeing she wasn't entirely sold, he stepped towards her and took her hand comfortingly in his. "Look, Lois…I understand why you didn't tell me the truth sooner." And he did. Kinda. "And maybe you're right; maybe it doesn't have anything to do with how you got here. But you can't be sure of that, and, even if you are right…I just…I'd like to know."

Sighing softly in resignation, she capitulated. "Okay," she said heavily. Upon hearing her assent, Clark released the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding and lead her to over to the couch. He managed to wait until she was settled before he looked at her expectantly, and she rewarded his patience by turning towards him with a frown. "I just really don't know where to begin."

Offering her a conciliatory smile, he suggested, "Tell me about him."

"He's…Clark's…wow. What to say about him? He's…he's the most wonderful man I've ever met." Pausing, she looked away from him, and he could almost see her bring his image to mind. Her eyes lit up, a soft smile curved the corners of her lips, and she got an uncharacteristically dreamy expression on her face. It was that same look she always got when she saw him enter the room, only this time, it didn't fade when she met his eyes again. He didn't know how else to explain it than to say that the mere thought of the man she loved seemed to turn on a light inside her, and she glowed from within.

The sudden burst of jealousy he felt for this other version of himself was ludicrous, he knew, but just because he recognized that didn't mean he could do anything about it.

Oblivious to her companion's musings, Lois continued, "He just…there's just something about him that I don't know how to explain. He takes my breath away. It's not just that he's smart, and funny, and he has a smile that gets to me every time I see it. He's…he's brave. Confident. Honest. Honorable. He sees the world in a way that I wish I could, and it's like…it's like I become the best possible version of myself when I'm with him. But the strange thing is, he still loves me when I'm at my worst."

Lost in her memories, Lois looked so far away that Clark wondered, if he stretched out a hand to touch her at this moment, would he even be able to reach her? He doubted that she even recognized that she was still sitting next to him on the couch. In her mind, he had no doubt that she was with the man she loved.

"I wish you could meet him, Clark," she mused in a tender, almost dreamy, voice. "I wish I could show you his kindness, his strength. I wish I could show you, or him for that matter, what a truly remarkable man he is. There are times I wonder what on earth I did to be so lucky that I get to fall in love with him over and over again, every day, and the whole time, he's looking at me like…like I'm the most precious thing in the world to him. Like _I'm_ the remarkable one. Like he doesn't know what he did to deserve loving me in return. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

He didn't think she really expected an answer; it was a rhetorical question. But he answered her anyway. "No, Lois. No, I don't." What was sad, he realized, is that he was telling the truth. It wasn't that he and Lana didn't love each other, because they did; he was certain of it. But he sometimes wondered if they loved each other because they were _in love_ with each other, or if their continued relationship was due more to the fact that they'd been together for so long, it was the comfortable, safe thing to do. At the sound of his voice, Lois's gaze snapped back to his, and she returned to him. Terrible though it probably was for him to admit, he was selfishly glad to have her back.

Still, though he hated to run the risk of losing her to this other world's Clark once more, there were still so many things he wanted to know. He had so many questions, he didn't even know how to begin.

He understood how, in another world, Clark Kent had fallen in love with Lois Lane. He still didn't quite understand how she fell in love with him in return.

"I-I bet he fell in love with you the first time he saw you," Clark ventured, careful to hide the thought that immediately followed. _I'm not sure I didn't._

To his surprise, however, she laughed. "Oh, no. Believe me when I say that couldn't be farther from the truth." At his surprised look, she continued, "I wasn't lying when I said we couldn't stand each other when we first met. He really did think I was rude, bossy, and annoying. And me? I just couldn't reconcile the two Clark Kents: the formerly naked amnesiac turned brooding farmboy I met versus this supposedly great guy who had stolen – and broken – my cousin's heart. That we even became _friends_ was something of a miracle, let alone more."

"Then how did you –?" he began, confused.

Shrugging, she replied with a grin, "I honestly don't know. He grew on me, I suppose. It took a while, but we became friends, and then we were partnered together at the _Planet_ , and then, somehow, we realized that we'd fallen in love somewhere along the way."

Curling her legs under her, she turned to face him with a sly grin on her face. "You know, if you were to ask him, he'd tell you I had feelings for him long before I actually did. I still contend that I had perfectly valid reasons to interrupt those dates he was on…and it wasn't like those girls were really his type, anyway. But, actually, I still remember the moment I realized I was absolutely crazy about him."

With those words, it was like a dam burst inside her, and all the love she felt for the man in her life became too much for her to contain. Story after story flowed out of her; at times, she would switch gears so quickly that she didn't even finish one tale before she began another. She laughed, she grew nostalgic, she even occasionally sounded somewhat bemused, but through it all, she glowed. With every story, she painted a picture – a picture of the man who was waiting somewhere for her return.

Clark was entranced. More than anything, he wanted to _be_ that man. He wanted to be that confident, that self-assured. He wanted to be a man who inspired such pride in those who loved him. He wanted to be a man someone like Lois would be willing to move heaven and earth to get back to.

But the more she talked, the more he realized he _wasn't_ that guy. He wasn't the world's savior. He wasn't the man who had swept the woman in front of him off her feet. He wasn't anything special at all. He was just Clark Kent, ex-football player. Dutiful son. Cripple.

"You really love him," he said softly as she brought one of her stories to a close.

Blinking at him in surprise, she nodded and murmured, "More than you could possibly know."

It was too much. _She_ was too much. He should never have asked her about her love for her fiancé; he should never have pried into her private memories. He felt as if, by doing so, he had somehow tainted something beautiful. Because he hadn't just listened to her stories; he had imagined himself the leading man in all of them. He had pictured himself as the one who was so deserving of her pride, her love.

He had wondered, if it turned out she could never go home, could she possibly grow to love him the same way? His heart twisted at the thought that she might someday get that same look in her eye when speaking of him. For a moment, he had dreamed of a world in which he was a hero – her hero.

It was impossible, and he was disgusted with himself for even entertaining the idea. And, suddenly, he grew angry with her for showing him this snapshot of another life, another Clark. He thought he had been _happy_ , that he'd gotten everything he could possibly have ever wanted when he lost his powers. He'd thought he was glad to be normal. He hadn't asked for her to fall into his life and show him that maybe, just maybe, he'd been wrong.

Jumping to his feet, though it caused a stabbing pain in his knee, he stalked over to the window and stared out across the fields. Damn Lois for making him question himself. Damn her for making him wonder if he'd made the wrong choice, all those years ago. And damn her for making him wonder if he had never really, truly known what it felt like to fall in love.

Damn her.

"Sounds great," he said, his voice scraping harshly against the silence. "Too bad none of it's true."

Sounding surprised, confused, and a bit offended, she asked, "What do you mean?" While he couldn't blame her for being thrown by his abrupt change of mood, he couldn't soften his tone, either.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he whirled on her. "You can't fool me, Lois. Don't forget, I used to have those powers! I remember what it was like – how hard it was to lie to everyone I loved, to pretend to be something I wasn't, to have to be careful not to hurt someone every time I hugged them or held them close. I _know_ what your Clark has to deal with every day; there's no way he's as happy as you'd like me to think."

Nodding slowly, Lois crossed her arms over her chest as she considered his words with narrowed eyes. He held his breath, expecting her to go on the attack in response to his frankly inappropriate comment, but she surprised him by saying in a tone that she was clearly trying to keep even, "Okay, yes. It is hard sometimes. But that –"

He cut her off abruptly as he scoffed, "And you're honestly telling me that you're okay with the fact that he isn't just another normal guy? You wouldn't be the _tiniest_ bit relieved if he gave up his powers tomorrow?"

Striding up to him, she looked him dead in the eye and replied fiercely, "The only thing I care about is whether or not he's happy! If that means choosing to do something with his powers, fine; if that means giving them up, so be it! You may know what it's like to have his powers, Clark, but you don't know _him_!"

"Oh, come on! Now, you're either lying or deluded, Lois! You know you –"

It was Lois's turn to interrupt as she demanded, "How _dare_ you? You don't even know what you're talking about, and you're judging my relationship with Clark? Where do you think you get the right to decide whether or not he's happy? If you gave up your abilities to be with Lana and you're regretting it now, or if your life didn't go the way you planned, that doesn't reflect on anybody but you! It certainly doesn't mean that Clark –"

"Now who's making assumptions?" he spat, clutching her forearms to pull her closer as he glared at her. "I didn't give up anything for Lana! I did it because it's what _I_ wanted, and I can't imagine ever wishing I'd done otherwise!"

A tense silence stretched between them, and he watched a muscle in Lois's jaw jump as she clenched her teeth tightly. Blowing out a deep breath, she tilted her head to the side and regarded him closely before she asked in a deceptively light tone, "Then why are you so angry, Clark?"

He released her so abruptly, she almost stumbled as he took a step away. He didn't know what he'd been thinking earlier, but he was beginning to wish he'd never even asked the question, never wondered about the life she lead in another world. He didn't know which was worse: that Lois was undoubtedly comparing him to the Clark she knew and apparently found him wanting, or that he had begun to wonder if she wasn't right.

Taking a deep breath, he crossed his arms over his chest and steadied himself before saying forcefully, as if the passion behind his words could convince the both of them of his sincerity, "I'm not. But do you know what I think, Lois? I think you are. I think you're angry because your Clark wouldn't give up his powers for you if you asked him to." It was a terrible thing to say; he knew that, but he couldn't stop himself from lashing out, wanting to hurt her as much as her very presence was hurting him.

"You know what I think, Clark?" she replied in the same tone, unconsciously mimicking his posture. "I think you're angry because you know I'd never ask him to."

Gritting his teeth, Clark brushed past her and headed for the door. He didn't respond to her comment; he had a feeling if he stayed around much longer, he'd say something he'd regret later. Or, more likely, she would. And, in truth, he really didn't understand why he was so angry. He didn't know what made him so convinced that there was no way the Clark in another world, a world where he still had his abilities and was forced to lie to everyone he loved, could truly be happy, having made that choice. He didn't know, and until he figured that out, it would probably be best if he didn't hang around.

When he had his hand on the doorknob and was almost out of the house, he heard her say, "Running away from a fight, Clark? That's not like you."

Turning quickly, he slapped his hand on the doorjamb and cried, "Damn it, would you just stop? Stop comparing the two of us! I'm not like him!"

Staring him in the eye, she replied flatly, "Yes. I know."

That was it, the thing he was hoping he wouldn't hear her say. Before she could elaborate, however, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.


	17. Reflections

It was several hours before Clark returned to the farm. He couldn't even say what he'd been doing in the intervening time; when he'd left, he'd mindlessly driven his truck around town, not even paying attention to where he was headed.

With a heavy sigh, he gazed morosely at the light shining through his parents' living room window. Even though it was well after midnight, Lois was apparently still up. For a moment, he wondered whether he really wanted to go inside. He didn't want to fight anymore – the time he'd spent away had been sufficient for him to feel shamed by his prior behavior – but he wasn't exactly ready to put the revelations he'd made this evening out of his mind, either.

Frankly, he didn't know what he wanted, and that was essentially the problem. However, it wasn't like he was going to figure it out by sitting in his truck. And, as much as he knew he wondered if he should be ashamed to admit it, he…well, he wanted to see Lois.

Moving slowly, he got out of his truck and walked up to the front door of the house. With a heavy sigh, he threw open the door, but he didn't immediately see his parents' houseguest. However, he did hear the faint sound of people talking excitedly. "Happy birthday, Clark!" they were crying joyfully. Turning, he looked towards the television, where what was clearly a home video was playing with the sound turned down low.

The first thing he saw was him – well, the other him. The Clark in the video was surrounded by his presumed loved ones, with a dorky looking party hat on his head. "Okay, Clark, before we get to your presents, Lois has a birthday cake for you!" Clark recognized Chloe's voice, though the woman on the screen looked markedly different from the one who had stormed angrily into his parents' kitchen three days before.

"Oh, god. She didn't bake it herself, did she?" the man in the party hat asked in horror that may have been feigned but seemed entirely real.

"I heard that!" Lois cried as stepped on-screen, carrying a violently yellow cake which she placed in front of him. Though she was glaring fiercely at the man who was now looking at her with an expression of supreme innocence, her grin didn't falter as she leaned down and brushed a kiss across his lips. "Just for that, Smallville, you're going to have to eat two slices. Big ones."

Clark didn't even realize he'd been walking towards the television set until he ran into the back of the couch. Looking down in surprise, he saw the woman whose laughter was filling the room.

Lois was curled up on the couch asleep, her head pillowed upon an arm tucked under her head. Temporarily distracted from the images on the screen, he grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa, unfolded it, and gently covered her sleeping form. It was only as he was bending over her to make sure she was securely tucked in that he noticed her cheeks were damp and she was whimpering softly; she was crying in her sleep.

Clark had rarely hated himself more than he did in that moment. Of course, he knew that Lois probably wasn't crying over him – she was undoubtedly dreaming about the Clark she knew – but the very idea that he _might_ have upset her to the point of tears earlier was enough to break his heart.

He had never felt so useless. Uncertain of what to do to make her feel better, or even if it was within his power to do so, he bent over her and brushed the back of his fingers lightly against her cheek, wiping away her tears. When she relaxed at his touch, he smiled softly and walked around the end of the sofa so he could sit with her as she slept. Maybe there wasn't really much he could do for her, but if she was at all comforted by his presence, for the moment, it was enough for him.

As carefully as he could, he shifted her enough so that he could lower himself as gingerly as possible next to her. Then, he rested his hand upon the top of her head and gently stroked her hair, listening to the pattern of her breathing. As Lois stilled and her breathing became deep and even, Clark turned his attention back to the television. To his surprise, he realized the setting had changed; apparently, whoever had put together the video had spliced together several different scenes.

Somebody, presumably his other self, was holding the camera as he walked down a short hallway and threw open the door on the far end. "Morning, Lois!" a familiar voice said cheerily as the cameraman walked into what was clearly a bedroom and approached a large lump on the bed against the far wall.

"Go 'way," the pile of blankets sounded grumpy as they shifted.

"Oh, come on, Lois! It's your birthday, and I told you I have a surprise for you!" the videographer said encouragingly as he sat next to the ill-tempered lump. "Aren't you at all eager to start the day and find out what it is?"

The microphone on the camcorder wasn't up to the task of catching her immediate response; it barely managed to pick up a heavy sigh as the woman under the blankets grumbled, "That's it, Clark. It's too early in the morning, and you're too cheerful to be awake. The engagement's off; I could never marry a man so obviously insane." The cameraman chuckled and Clark joined him as Lois peeked out from her makeshift nest to glare into the camera. "Clark!" she squealed in horror, throwing the blankets back over her head. "Put that away! I just woke up; what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm videotaping my beautiful bride-to-be, of course."

"Oh, very funny, Clark! Now put that away!"

"Not until you get out of bed. I want to pre-hey!" Suddenly, a hand flew out from under the pile of blankets and grabbed on his wrist, and the video feed quickly became jerky as the cameraman was apparently yanked into bed with the woman he'd been trying to awaken. Though there was interference on the microphone that made it difficult to distinguish too many different sounds for a moment, Lois's chuckles could clearly be heard.

The man in the video clearly lost control of the camcorder and it fell to the ground after a few seconds. More laughter could be distinguished and then, "Lois! The camera!" the Clark in the video yelped and, just at the edges of the frame, he could be seen making a desperate bid for the camcorder that was still filming as Lois threw the blankets over them both.

Again, the scene mercifully changed; Clark didn't think he was really up to witnessing what was clearly about to happen in the video he'd been watching. It didn't take too long for him to realize the new setting was presumably the birthday party to which the other Clark had referred.

The camera panned across a group of people milling around outside, and Clark realized they were at the farm when he recognized the barn in the background. A few of the guests were sipping what looked like champagne, and Clark could see a large banner with "Happy Birthday, Lois!" written on it was strung up against the side of the barn. Out of the frame, somebody whispered urgently, "You getting this, Jimmy?"

"I've got it covered." At these words, the cameraman – James Olsen, it would seem – turned to film first Clark and then Lois. He was in front of a large group, speaking into a microphone, and she was watching him do so in wary expectation. "So, I've been thinking about what to get the most beautiful woman in the world, who is, except perhaps in loving me, absolutely perfect," the crowd laughed, "and I finally decided that, really, only public humiliation will do. So, I'm going to have to ask you all to excuse me in advance, but…" Clearing his throat, the Clark on the tape made a gesture and a song began to play.

On the couch, Clark winced. "Oh, no. Please, please don't do this." His was a voice that was only truly great when he was singing in the truck – alone. He couldn't imagine any version of himself being so foolhardy as to think his efforts could only be improved with the assistance of a microphone.

Heedless of his counterpart's objections, the other Clark began to sing. "You and I, we're buddies. And we've been since we first met." The camera panned from the singer's face to Lois's. She was rolling her eyes and muttering something to the fifties-looking, slightly pudgy man to her left, but a deep blush was coloring her cheeks, and she actually seemed as if she was trying hard not to smile. Clark concluded that the champagne in her hand had to have dulled her sense of hearing; that could be the only logical explanation for her apparent pleasure at the ongoing spectacle. On her right, Lana and Chloe were trying to hide their laughter behind their glasses to no avail.

"And me and you, well, we've sure been through our share of laughter and regret. Lord knows we've had our bad days, and more than once, we've disagreed. But you've always been a friend to me." The camera was still focused on Lois as she made a great show of scoffing at the assertion that she and Clark would ever find cause to disagree, but nobody else was buying it, if their smirks were any indication.

Stepping forward, she approached the man publicly humiliating himself on her behalf, and though it looked like she was saying something to the man with the microphone, her words were lost as he continued to sing, "You can be so stubborn, there's times I think you just like to fight. And I hope and pray I live to see a day when you say I might be right," Lois punched his shoulder gently at this line. "And there's times I'd rather kill you than listen to your honesty, but you've always been a friend to me."

Clark caught his breath as he watched the tape. The man on the video was clearly singing only to the woman in front of him; the rest of the crowd might not have existed. And, for her sake, she seemed completely engrossed in him in return. It would be hard to believe, that two people could be so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world could simply cease to exist for them, if the evidence wasn't clearly right there on the videotape.

"You've always been, time and again, the one to take my hand," as he sang, the man in the video grabbed the hand he'd just been punched with and pulled her closer. The end of the song could barely be heard; Clark had lowered the microphone so he could wrap his arms around her waist and hold her tight. "And show to me that it's okay to be just the way I am. With no apology."

Resting his forehead against Lois's, Clark finished, "Oh, you've always been, and you will 'til God knows when, yes you've always been a friend to me."

As the song came to a close, the crowd cheered their approval while Lois and Clark exchanged a long, heartfelt kiss, and the man watching the tape couldn't take it any longer. Leaning forward, he grabbed the remote and hit the power button more savagely than the task really required.

The abrupt silence somehow must have registered to the woman by his side, because she stirred as the television switched off. He watched as her eyes fluttered open, and then she turned her head to gaze at him a bit blurrily. "Hey," she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep. "I was wondering if you'd come back tonight. I waited up for you."

"I can tell," he said, faint laughter evident in his tone. "It's okay; go back to sleep. We can talk later."

"No, we ca-can't," she managed to say on a wide yawn. Lurching awkwardly into a sitting position, she rubbed her eyes and then turned to face him. "Listen," she began, sounding marginally more alert. "I wanted…no, I _need_ to apologize for my behavior earlier. I-I was out of line, with some of those things I said."

He shrugged, uncomfortably aware that he had more to apologize for than she – including things of which she wasn't even aware. "It's okay, Lois. You've been under a lot of stress lately."

Frowning, she said forcefully, "That's no excuse. It's just…well, that's just the kind of person I am, I suppose. I can't leave well enough alone; I always have to try to make things better. Of course, more often than not, I end up making things worse in the process, but...," her voice trailed off and she shrugged.

His eyebrows raised, Clark asked mildly, "You just can't keep from trying to fix me?"

Lois shook her head. "I just keep forgetting that you're not mine to fix."

Clark winced at the blade she'd unintentionally twisted. "It's just…I don't understand what you want, Lois. You say you don't want to fix me, but when the two of us are together, I can't shake the feeling that you want _something_ from me – other than my help getting you home, of course. Even right now; you're looking at me, and I can't help but think you're waiting for something. I just can't figure out what." It was true, he realized with some degree of shock, though he'd never really realized it before he'd said the words.

"I want you to be happy," she said with quiet sincerity, and he had to look away from her.

Resting his forearms on his knees, Clark slumped and fixed the ground between his feet with an intent stare. He couldn't look at the woman at his side for the moment, not when he asked, "Why do you care?" Though he'd tried to project an air of nonchalance as he said the words, they came out more intently than he'd intended. "Why do you care, if I'm happy or not?"

A moment of silence followed his question. Then, "I care," she said simply, which was apparently all the answer he was going to get. Strangely, it was almost enough.

Turning to look at her, he said, "I am happy." Oddly, it almost sounded as if he was trying to convince himself as well as her that it was true.

Lois made a noncommittal grunt, but she didn't directly contradict him, so he was able to lie to himself and pretend he'd told the truth. Instead, she sat forward long enough to rearrange the sofa cushions she had been leaning against and directed, "You know, it occurs to me that I've told you all about myself, but you have yet to return the favor. So, come on then, Kent. Start talking."

Clark was sure he looked as perplexed as he felt at the abrupt swerve in the conversation, though he was beginning to suspect this was par for the course in carrying on any discussion with the woman by his side. "You want to know about me?" he parroted in disbelief. When she nodded, he began to speak, but then he frowned. "Okay. But…I know it'll be difficult, but do you think you could try to forget that I…that he and I…" he stammered to a halt, uncertain of how to continue. He just didn't want to be compared to the paragon that was her fiancé, not tonight.

Lois's smile said she understood as she feigned ignorance and asked, "Who?"

Clark smiled, relaxing against the back of the couch. However, when he tried to think of what he should say, nothing immediately came to mind. "Okay…I really don't have any idea what to tell you," he admitted.

"Well…for example…have you and Lana been running the Talon for very long?" she prompted.

He lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. "Not really. We both worked there during high school, of course, but we didn't actually take over ownership of the coffeehouse until right after we moved back from Metropolis."

Lois's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You two lived in Metropolis?"

With a nod, he looked at her out of the corner of his eye and said lightheartedly, "Well, that is where the Sharks play, isn't it?"

"No way!" she cried, clearly stunned by the implication of his statement. He had her full attention now, and he tried not to show how much that pleased him. "You're messing with me! You really played for the Sharks, Kent?"

Though part of him recognized the somewhat affectionate nickname she'd decided to grant him – Kent – and realized it differed from the one she bestowed upon the man in the video earlier – Smallville – he didn't know if he should be heartened by this realization or depressed. Since no immediate answer came to mind, he decided to momentarily ignore the question. Instead, he nodded and turned to look at her fully. "For a few years. They recruited me right after high school."

"Did you have to leave because of…um…" her question trailed off as she gave his knee a significant glance.

"My accident? Pretty much." When she looked at him sympathetically, he smiled reassuringly and said, "Actually, I was thinking that I was going to have to leave the team soon, anyway. Lana and I had gotten engaged at that point, and we had just begun to discuss taking some time to do some travelling. She's always wanted to see the world. Also, it was getting increasingly more difficult for me to hide my abilities, and I didn't want to put Lana through the worry that something would happen and I'd be discovered. After I lost them, she worried instead that I'd forget I wasn't invulnerable anymore and get seriously hurt." With a wry smile, he added, "Which isn't far from the truth, come to think of it."

The answering smile Lois threw him didn't reach her eyes. He continued, "After the accident, we had to stick around Metropolis for a while, because of my physical therapy. Between that and the hospital costs, the money we'd saved for our wedding and honeymoon was pretty much eaten up. Lex offered to help, of course, but…" He frowned. "I couldn't really let him do that. So Lana and I talked about it, and we decided it would be best to postpone our wedding for a couple of years, until I could get back on my feet again. Metaphorically speaking, of course," he said with another wry smile.

"Anyway, it was about that time that I could tell Dad's heart had really started giving him trouble, though he did what he could to hide it. So, since there wasn't really much point in sticking around Metropolis – particularly since real estate is so expensive there – we moved back so I could help out around the farm. Lex made us an offer on the Talon that was too good to pass up, so…there we are."

Lois took a few moments to ponder his words, then she asked, "So Lana…she…knows all about you, I assume?"

Clark grinned. "We were living together when I still had my abilities; it would have been pretty hard to hide them from her. Anyway, I _have_ asked her to marry me. It seems like one of those things a woman should probably know about before she agrees to take me 'til death do us part', don't you think?" He was intrigued by her almost imperceptible wince. Had her Clark taken a different stance on the issue?

Obviously unaware she'd given anything away, Lois asked, "So, that's when you told her? Right before you proposed?"

In response, he offered her a sheepish smile. "Actually, she already knew at that point; I was just trying to make a joke. The cat was pretty much out of the bag around the time she stumbled across my spaceship, cunningly hidden in the storm cellar."

With this tantalizing bit of information, Clark began to tell her about his life, beginning with how his parents had offered Lana a place to stay for a short time after her aunt moved to Metropolis. She didn't stick around for long, particularly not after she went down into the storm cellar when she was searching for him one afternoon. Apparently intrigued by the tarped behemoth in the center of the room, she uncovered it in a fit of curiosity and came face-to-face with the truth about Clark Kent.

Lost in the memories as he spoke, Clark recalled how Lana had not taken this particular revelation well, though he supposed at the time – and still did to this day – that he couldn't blame her. It isn't every day one finds out one has been dating an alien. She had tried to take it in stride, and for the first forty-eight hours, it looked like she might actually pull it off. Then, unfortunately, she'd confessed that she was just too freaked out to deal with the issue, and she'd unobtrusively left his house the very next day.

She also unobtrusively left their relationship at about the same time.

To her credit, she never told another soul about her discovery, at least not to Clark's knowledge, and he believed her when she assured him of this fact. She'd kept his secret, and she even made obvious efforts to overcome her initial feelings on the matter. It had taken both time and patience, but he'd eventually managed to show her that he was still the same guy she'd known and loved. And, though their relationship did suffer the occasional setback thereafter, Lana had eventually come to terms with the truth about him and the two of them eventually got back together.

When Clark finished telling her the story of how he proposed to Lana, Lois chuckled and her expression grew thoughtful. Then, after a moment's silence, she asked awkwardly, "If you don't mind my asking, how, um, how exactly did you lose your abilities?"

At first, Clark wasn't sure what to tell her. The story was a long one, and it was a bit difficult to explain. On the other hand, she presumably already knew all about Jor-El's vision for his only son's destiny, and she would probably feel the same as he did about it.

Still, it wasn't something upon which he really wished to dwell, so perhaps the simpler explanation would be best. "The first time I opened my ship, I found a message inside. It was from my biological father, Jor-El, and in it, he told me he wanted me to rule this planet. That's the word he used: rule. He said it was my destiny. I didn't want that, so I refused to do what he said. In punishment, he took my powers away from me and made me human."

"And you've managed to stay out of the path of any speeding bullets since, huh?" she murmured, but when he looked at her in confusion, she waved her hand as if to shrug the subject away and instead asked, "But don't you ever wonder what might have happened if you'd kept your abilities?"

She sounded genuinely curious, not judgmental, so he didn't take offense. "You mean before you showed up?" he joked. Then he shrugged and answered truthfully. "Occasionally. I mean, who doesn't wonder what their life could have been like if they hadn't made the choices they did? I sometimes look around and wonder if I couldn't have made a difference somehow, but then I think about everything else – like the life Jor-El chose for me and the need to always keep a huge part of myself hidden from the people closest to me – and I think the choices I made were probably for the best, even if things didn't end up the way I thought they would."

Lois nodded, but she didn't seem entirely convinced. He watched as she absently twirled part of the blanket's fringe between her fingers as she considered his words, and then she finally said, "You know, Clark, just because you came across that message in your spaceship doesn't mean that's really what your father intended. I mean, there could have been something lost in the translation. And even if that is what he sent you to Earth to do, it doesn't mean that you had to follow that path. No matter what anyone else says, I think you make your own destiny."

Clark offered her a half-hearted smile. "I don't know, Lois. I think it takes a pretty strong person to change their destiny. I don't think I could have done it by myself."

Lois's smile in return was both encouraging and more sincere than his had been. "Oh, I don't know about that, Clark. I think you're stronger than you realize."

Raising his eyebrows at her, he asked mildly, "Because he is?"

She shrugged. "The two of you are more alike than you realize," she replied cryptically, and he shook his head gently in response.

Though he still thought she had to be mistaken on that particular issue, he didn't think it was a good time to argue the point again – not when, for once, he felt like Lois was actually seeing _him_ when she looked his way. "Maybe," he conceded reluctantly. "But I think you're neglecting to take one small factor into account when you say that. Maybe your Clark was strong enough to have made his own destiny, but he also had something going for him that I never had." At her curious look, he continued, a bit sadly, "You. He had you."

Lois's chuckle sounded forced, and she didn't meet his eyes as she said with false cheer, "Oh, I wouldn't put too much stock in that, Kent. Trust me, I had a lot less to do with the man Clark became than you'd think. And if I _had_ been consulted on the issue, I probably would have told him to rethink the outfit." Her joke fell flat as he winced in recollection of the bombshell she'd dropped on him earlier. He still couldn't believe that the Clark in her reality spent a good portion of his day in _tights_. He was trying very hard not to dwell on that issue, in fact.

"I think," he began, pointedly ignoring the blue, red, and yellow garbed elephant in the room, "you'd be surprised."

She chuckled and said nonchalantly, "Who knows? Maybe you're right," though he could tell she thought he didn't know what he was talking about. And who knew; maybe she knew better? He suspected that, on this matter, she didn't, however.

As silence fell between them, Clark glanced at the clock and caught his breath. He couldn't believe it was so late; it was almost dawn and he still hadn't been to bed. How could he have lost track of time like that? "It's late," he said abruptly, looking at his companion closely and once again noticing the dark circles under her eyes. "I should let you go to bed."

Lurching to his feet, he was about to make his way to the door, but Lois grabbed his hand at the last minute. "Wait!" she cried, almost desperately. When he turned to look at her curiously, she flushed, her eyes skittering away from his. "I-I know I shouldn't ask you to do this, but…," with a deep breath, she steeled herself and met his gaze steadily, "could you stay? Just for a little while longer? Just…just until I fall asleep." As if she felt embarrassed to have asked, her blush grew deeper and she muttered in explanation, "The dreams I've…I-I don't want to be alone."

Clark bit back the automatic reply, not even certain himself what that would have been, and considered her plea. Could he stand to stay here with her as she slept, knowing as he did that his heart was in serious danger of irrevocably being lost with every moment he spent in her company? Could he stay, knowing he would simply be a poor substitute for the man she wanted by her side? And could he really leave, after seeing the expression on her face when she asked him not to – the expression that clearly said that, for this moment at least, she needed him?

With one short jerk of his head, he agreed to do as she asked, well aware that his capitulation was more or less inevitable from the moment the words had left her mouth. "Okay," he replied softly, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Moving slowly, as if a sudden movement on his part would possibly scare her away, Clark sat down on the couch once more and rearranged the pillows to suit Lois's comfort. Then, he all but held his breath a she lay down beside him, her head resting against the curve of his right thigh. Laying his hand against her brow, he gently brushed the hair off her forehead.

Clark sat in silence, lost in thought, well after he heard her breathing grew more even as she fell into a deep sleep. When it was clear that Lois was sleeping comfortably, he told himself that it was well past time he returned home, where Lana was no doubt waiting for him. But, still, he didn't move.

He didn't know how it had happened, but in just a few short days, the woman asleep beside him had changed him, somehow. He would have sworn he was happy, but she had shown him another life and another way to live it – and, though it was something he'd never allowed himself to even consider before, he had begun to realize how many times he had wondered if there really wasn't supposed to be more to his life than he was living.

The truth was, he had felt a vague dissatisfaction for so long, he had long ago stopped even realizing it was there, coloring every decision he made. He joined the football team in high school because he liked the sport, but also because he wanted to fit in. That didn't really end up the way he'd thought it would; he still had to refrain from allowing his teammates to get too close to him. But he liked the sport, and he convinced himself that it would have been better if he weren't living in such a small town, so he signed on to the Sharks when they recruited him out of high school.

That hadn't gone the way he'd expected it would, either. Far from making things easier for him, his position on a professional football team actually made everything even more incredibly difficult. He not only had to hide his abilities from his teammates and friends, he had to fake the results of every health exam, expose himself to Kryptonite before taking any kind of physical.

So he'd given up his abilities, convinced that it was the right thing to do – that, as a normal man, he would finally find the contentment he so longed for. Giving his leg a mournful look, he considered how spectacularly _that_ had turned out for him. But, to be fair, his physical infirmity aside, that so-called "average" life he'd so wanted to attain hadn't exactly been what he'd thought it would be, even before the accident.

He'd thought things would be so much simpler, so much better, if he didn't have to hide who he was – and, to some extent, that was true. However, he couldn't escape the knowledge that, though the loss of his powers changed what he could _do_ , it couldn't change what he _was_. He was still an alien, the last of his race – a refugee from a distant planet. What was worse was the nagging suspicion that _Lana_ couldn't forget, either.

Oh, she loved him. He knew that. He depended upon it, actually. But, every so often, he would look at her and see an awareness, lurking somewhere so deep inside her he wondered if she even recognized it. An awareness of what he was, of what he had once able to do. It was strange, how the awareness he saw in Lana's eyes was so dissimilar to the awareness he saw in Lois's. When Lois looked at him, he knew she was aware of what he was, of the powers he had once had, but there was still something...something he couldn't quite put his finger on or explain in her gaze. Maybe it was, in part, a surprising acceptance for what she saw.

Lana accepted him, as well, but, back when he'd had his powers, he'd also occasionally seen fear lurking behind her eyes, as well, though she'd done her best to hide it. Thinking of that look – realizing that the woman he loved was, to some extent, _scared_ of him – had twisted in his gut like a knife until he couldn't take it any longer.

He'd thought that would all go away, once he became normal, but it hadn't. Not really. It had simply changed, until he could no longer say for certain what it was she feared, exactly. What she afraid _of_ him or _for_ him? He didn't know, and, afraid of losing her, he'd never asked.

Of all the thoughts, all the questions, that ran through his mind as he sat on the couch and listened to the steady rhythm of Lois's breathing, however, there was one that wouldn't leave him alone. As his eyes strayed towards the DVD player, Clark had to choke back a wave of envy so strong he could almost taste it.

If only he hadn't seen that video, he could have continued to tell himself that the man Lois described didn't really exist – at least, he couldn't really be what she believed him to be. But he couldn't deny what he'd seen, in those few brief minutes of video; the Clark in her world was exactly as she'd portrayed him. He was confident, self-assured. A man who knew his purpose in life and wasn't too scared to try to life up to it. The man in the video was the type of man who deserved the woman he'd had in his arms.

Clark…well…he simply _wasn't_ that guy. But, as he switched off the light and sat there in the dark, he began to wonder if it might be possible that maybe, some day, he _could_ be.


	18. Confrontation

Lois awoke the next morning feeling more refreshed than she had in days. Blinking a bit blearily at the window, she realized the sun was high in the sky; she'd slept longer than she'd intended to. Yawning and rubbing the last of the sleep from her eyes, Lois slowly levered herself into a sitting position and looked around. Clark was gone.

To tell the truth, as much as she appreciated him staying with her the night before, Lois was relieved not to have to face him in the morning (or potentially the afternoon), and, for once, it wasn't even due to the fact that he was almost physically identical to the Clark she knew. At some point the night before – and she couldn't really say when – she'd begun to find it difficult to see him as being anything like the man she loved.

Thinking of her Clark, Lois's breath caught and she gave the ring on her finger a mournful look. Another night had passed, another day had gone by without him. She was running out of time, and she was no closer to finding the way home than she'd been three days before.

Clamping down on the sudden wave of panic and nausea that came over her, Lois jumped quickly to her feet and made her way to the kitchen. She wasn't out of time yet, and she wasn't going to give up, not ever. Besides, while many of the leads she'd pursued had failed to pan out, she hadn't exhausted every avenue yet.

So, as she walked to the kitchen, Lois concentrated on coming up with an action plan, as opposed to focusing on her failures to date. First, she was going to go back into town to track down Dennis, see if he had the information he'd promised her. Actually, she amended her previous thought with a scowl, her first order of business was going to have to involve hiking towards the Luthor Mansion to pick up the Kents' truck; she'd never gotten around to mentioning it to Clark the night before. But then, once she had the truck and the information, she'd…

Lois's train of thought came to a screeching halt as she wandered into the kitchen to see that it was already occupied. "Good afternoon," the woman sitting at the kitchen table said with a cheerful smile. "There's some coffee brewed, if you want some. I wasn't sure how you like it. I hope I didn't wake you when I came in; you looked like you needed the sleep."

"Morning, Lana," Lois said cautiously with a tight smile as she made her way over to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup. Normally, she took it with a little cream and sugar, but this looked promisingly like a "straight up" kind of morning. As she made her way over to the table to join the other woman, her mind worked furiously to come up with a multitude of reasons for Lana's presence. None of them were very encouraging.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here," the woman in question said without preamble as Lois took her seat. Appreciating the straightforward opening gambit, Lois nodded and looked at her companion expectantly. "Well, I'm sure you've also noticed I haven't exactly gone out of my way to see you over the last couple of days, and I didn't want you to think that I wasn't here because I wasn't concerned over your situation."

"Of course," Lois murmured, wondering where the conversation was going.

Clearing her throat, Lana continued, "But, the truth is, I have been avoiding you. And I really can't explain why, except that I-I had a feeling that you were…close with the Clark you knew, and I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to know more."

Lois's chuckle was genuine, though her smile was wry as she replied, "Believe me, I know what you mean, but if that's the case, why are you here now?"

"I'm here because Clark told me this morning that the two of you are engaged in your reality and I realized that I did want to get to know you better, after all." At Lois's perplexed look, she explained, "You and I have a lot in common, it seems, and I…well, to tell you the truth, I thought it might be nice to talk to someone who actually understands what it's like to love – to be with – someone like Clark."

Nodding slowly, Lois stalled for time by taking a sip of coffee as she pondered these words. "Of course I…," she began before she realized she didn't really know what it was she'd been about to say, so she took another sip of coffee and thought some more. "Okay," she finally managed. "I suppose I understand what you mean, but I really don't know what you're expecting from me. My Clark and your Clark are…well, they're really nothing alike, when you come right down to it."

"Because your Clark kept his abilities and is trying to save the world." It wasn't a question, so Lois didn't feel like it required an answer. "But you still…look, I know it probably seems absurd to you, but you have to understand…I don't have anyone to talk to about this. I never have had anyone."

Lois sighed and sat back in her chair, feeling somewhat defeated. Emotionally, she was wrung out; she didn't know if she was really capable of handling the conversation ahead. On the other hand, there didn't seem like she had much chance of getting out of it, and the other woman so clearly needed to talk. It wasn't that she wasn't sympathetic to Lana's situation, but she really didn't feel like sitting through a thinly veiled 'He's mine and you can't have him' discussion. "You have the Kents," she tried in one last desperate attempt to avoid what would no doubt be a painful situation.

Lana's eyes were sad as she shook her head. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent are wonderful, but…they're Clark's family; they're not mine. And, as much as I care about them, I don't really feel comfortable talking to them about this sort of thing."

Well, it looked like she was going to have to bite the bullet. "So what's on your mind?"

Having finally been granted her opening, Lana suddenly looked like she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. She trailed one finger lazily along the rim of her mug as she stared into its contents, and then she asked, "Clark wouldn't tell me very much last night; he said a lot of what you guys discussed was private, and that's okay. But he did make it pretty clear that the Clark you know is more…accepting of his abilities. That he flies around, trying to save the world, and goes by the name of Superman." Lois nodded, though she wasn't sure her companion was really expecting a response. "I just…I wanted to ask…How do you do it?"

Lois frowned and glowered at her coffee cup, wondering why the caffeine had suddenly failed her; she'd been following the conversation until the very end, but now it seemed to have gotten away from her. "What?" she asked stupidly. "Um…I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

"How do you deal with being the one who has to sit at home and wait for him to return? How do you let him go, when you know something could happen to him and _this_ could be the night he doesn't come home at all? How do you deal with it?" The questions came at Lois so quickly, it was as if a dam inside of Lana had broken, and everything she'd felt for years and hidden deep inside of herself would be restrained no longer. "How do you go through life, every day, knowing what you do about him – that he's destined for far greater things than you will ever be able to understand, let alone accomplish, and that, no matter how much he loves you, this destiny…" Lana paused and swallowed a couple times before she finished in a much calmer, sadder, tone of voice, "doesn't really have anything to do with you at all? How do you live with that?"

Lois cleared her throat. "I don't know," she admitted uncomfortably. "I've never really thought about it that way. But…the Clark you love isn't…I mean, he doesn't have his powers any longer. Why are you even –?"

"Because I know he's not happy," Lana said, cutting her off. "He hasn't been happy in a long time, and I see it, even if he doesn't. I don't know if it's the loss of his powers or if it's…something else, but he's miserable and it's slowly suffocating him. And, as much as I want to help him, there's nothing I can do, because I…" her voice trailed off, but her eyes finished the sentence for her. She was miserable, too.

Though Lois tried to reach out to her companion, Lana pulled her hands away at the last moment, folding them in her lap. Taking a moment to brush her hair away from her face in a futile gesture to stall for time, Lois bit her lower lip as she tried to figure out where she should even begin. "I don't know what to tell you, Lana," she finally said helplessly. "I wish I had some profound words of wisdom, something that will make you understand, but the truth is, I really don't have all of the answers. I'm making it up as I go along, just as you are."

"But the Clark in your world…he _is_ happy," her companion pointed out.

"Well, don't get me wrong…life isn't perfect there, either, but if you're asking me if he's generally happy in the life he's living, then yes. I'd have to say he is. But…I really wish there was a way to…what I have with my Clark is a lot different than what you have with yours. Our lives are completely…I don't know that you can really compare the two with any degree of fairness."

Well aware that she wasn't making much sense, Lois cleared her throat purposefully and sat forward, looking intently into Lana's eyes. "Look, Clark and I have known each other a long time, but if you want to know the truth, we didn't realize how we felt about each other until relatively recently. Okay, I'll grant you that I probably fell for him well before I realized I'd done so, but that's not important, really. Either way, I may have met Clark first, but I "met" Superman before I realized the feelings I had for my partner." With a long-suffering sigh and a roll of her eyes, she admitted grudgingly, "And, no. I didn't realize they were the same person right away."

"How could you not –?"

"Can we not go there?" Lois interrupted. "The short answer is that I don't know, and it's something of a sore spot for me. But, back to the point…I developed something of a…crush," she said the word disdainfully, as if the concept was something she generally thought beneath her, "on the superhero long before I ever gave the normal guy a second glance."

Clearly having a hard time processing this concept, Lana asked slowly, her brow furrowed in thought, "You fell in love with Superman, but you didn't have feelings for Clark?"

Nodding, Lois agreed, "That pretty much sums it up, yes. So then, after Clark and I started dating, when I found out they were the same person (and it didn't happen right away, believe me), while I may have been _hurt_ that this was something he'd kept from me and lied to me about…there was never a question of asking him not to do it any longer." Looking down into the mug she was sad to realize was empty, Lois sighed and admitted softly, "I may need Clark, but my world needs Superman. And as much as it's difficult sometimes – for both of us – I love a man who needs to _be_ Superman."

"But don't you…don't you ever wish he didn't?" Lana asked anxiously.

The question grabbed Lois's attention, and she tore her gaze away from the mug in her hands and met her companion's eyes. "You mean, do I ever wish he could walk away from it all, give up his powers, and lead a normal life with just me?"

Lana nodded, looking shame-faced, and Lois sympathized. She knew how it felt, to have to admit that you might not be as good a person as you'd like to be. On a deep breath, she answered honestly, though a part of her wanted to do anything but. "Yes. Yes, there are times that I wish I didn't have to share him with the rest of the world. Of course I do. And there's a part of me that's terrified every time he flies away from me, because I know that there's every chance that this is the time he doesn't come back. There are times when my life seems petty and insignificant next to his, and I'm left wondering what such a frankly unbelievably extraordinary man is doing with an ordinary woman like me.

"Of course I think about all these things, Lana, but at the end of the day, I can't really ask Clark to stop being Superman. And, if you want to know the truth, I really don't want to. Yes, it's terrifying sometimes, but it's also…it's amazing. Watching the man you love doing everything he can to…" Her voice trailed off as she waved her hands in a futile attempt to gesticulate her meaning. "I'm proud of him. I'm insanely proud that he's willing to put his life on the line and stand up for what he thinks is right, even when he has to stand alone."

Lana stared earnestly at her and asked, clearly not yet understanding, "But how?"

Lois took a moment to silently reflect upon the question before he answered softly, "Because he comes home to me at the end of the day. He comes through my door – or occasionally my window – and he takes me in his arms, and he tells me there's no place on Earth he'd rather be than right there by my side…and I believe him. And I know that, if it came right down to it, if it ever came down to a situation where Clark had to choose – that he could save the world but lose me in the process…"

"He'd choose you," her companion finished confidently.

Shaking her head, Lois smiled sadly. "No. He'd do the right thing; he'd save the world, and he knows that I'd be proud of him for doing so. Because that's what he does; he does it every day. But he'd want to save me, first and foremost, and having to do otherwise would kill him."

"And that's enough for you?" Lana asked incredulously. "How can it be, when you know he's never going to be able to put you first?"

Lois shook her head, her eyes wet with unshed tears. "You just don't understand, Lana; to be loved like that…that's everything."

Lana made a sound in the back of her throat as she jumped to her feet in agitation and swiped the empty mugs off the table with a sudden gesture. Taking them over to the coffee pot, she refilled both cups, doctored them, and brought them back to the table, where Lois gingerly took them out of her hands.

As she threw herself back into her chair, Lana demanded, "So you're saying that Clark would be happier if he'd never given up his powers, and he'd probably be happier than he is now if he found a way to get them back?"

"No," Lois replied, drawing the word. "I'm saying my Clark is, I think, a happier person with his powers than I believe he'd be without, but, as I said before, my Clark and your Clark really aren't the same person. Look, just because my Clark is content with the life he leads doesn't mean the man you know would feel the same. The two of you love each other; you're happy together. You should deci–"

"We're separated," Lana blurted abruptly, cutting off Lois's attempt at sage advice.

Stunned, she asked, "Wha–?"

With a sigh, Lana answered the question Lois hadn't quite managed to articulate. "We're separated. You can stop looking at me like that; it really doesn't have anything to do with you. It's just…since Clark's accident, we haven't really been…Neither of us has been happy for a while now, and, like I said, I realize it even if he doesn't. We fight all the time, and…" her voice trailed off and she shook her head abruptly, as if to shake off any further explanation. "A little less than a week ago, we decided it would be best if we called off the engagement."

"But…Mr. and Mrs. Kent…" Lois began, still scrambling to catch up. She'd figured there was some amount of trouble in paradise for Clark and Lana, but she'd also figured it had a lot to do with the sudden appearance of his "fiancé". She'd never supposed the tension she'd picked up on actually predated her, and Clark had never so much as alluded to the situation at all.

"Are the reason why we haven't told anyone yet," Lana finished for her. "Mr. Kent's heart…he's had an episode or two lately, and we didn't want to add any more strain to it. We didn't want him worrying about the two of us, so we agreed to keep it under wraps until his condition improves a bit."

With a sigh, she added, "Plus, I think there's a part of Clark that refuses to believe it's actually going to happen. He always has had a hard time leaving people behind."

Lois certainly couldn't argue with that, so she didn't even try. "I-I don't really know what to say, except that I know you have no reason to believe this, but I am sorry things didn't work out between you two." The words were uttered with a surprising amount of sincerity. Leaving aside the issue of her feelings for the Clark in her world, she wouldn't want to wish unhappiness on any version of the man she loved – not even when that happiness couldn't be found with another Lois.

With a grimace, she reflected that she _had_ to find her way home soon; this entire issue of alternate realities was only getting more complicated as time went on, and pretty soon she was certain her brain would burst from the pressure of keeping it all straight and coherent, even in her own mind.

Unaware of her companion's silent musings, Lana offered her a wry smile. "Thank you," she said awkwardly. "Things between Clark and I…well…I know this is a terrible thing to admit, but I…this isn't the life that I wanted. I wanted…I don't know. Something different."

"You wanted to travel," Lois elaborated for her. "You wanted to see the world, to get beyond the confines of this sleepy little hamlet and see what the rest of the world had to offer. You gave your dreams up to be with the man you loved, because he needed to be in Smallville to be close to his family and you wanted to be there for him, but you can't help but think of what your life could have been like."

Lana winced. "You must think I'm a terrible person."

With a reassuring smile, Lois reached out and grabbed the other woman's hand. "Sometimes life just doesn't turn out the way you thought it would; I know. I don't judge you. Or him." That was correct, to a degree. She was certainly _trying_ not to judge either of them. Unfortunately, Lois had always been a woman of strong opinions; it wasn't part of her nature to sit back and refrain from comment. On the other hand, there was absolutely no part of this that was any of her business, and she only stood to make things worse by interfering in things she didn't understand. So, for the time being, she would have to do her best.

Besides, it wasn't a complete exaggeration. As much as she was happy with her life, as much as she honestly couldn't imagine doing anything differently with it now, it would be a lie to say that it was the life she would have chosen, years ago. She never thought she'd someday want to settle down with a man like Clark Kent, and she'd certainly done a remarkable job of denying how she felt about him for long time. Lois wasn't a coward in most things, but in falling for Clark, she had done more than her fair share of running away. But…then again, she never realized just how happy he would make her. She never would have guessed that falling for Clark wouldn't mean she had to give up her dreams; on the contrary, the two of them would find new ones together.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked, instead of voicing any of these thoughts.

Lana shrugged. "Actually, I don't really know, yet. I've been thinking I might return to Metropolis for a little while. Lex has been talking about expanding his business interests there, and, a long time ago, he mentioned that he'd be willing to hire me if I ever wanted a job. I've been thinking that I should see if the offer still stands."

Making a gesture somewhere between a wince and a cringe, Lois said as tactfully as she could, "Lana, even though I know we don't know each other very well…I want to caution you against being too trusting of Lex Luthor. I know he seems like a nice guy, and maybe he still is, in this world. But I've had plenty of opportunity to see what he _can_ be. I just…I don't want you to get hurt."

"Lex is a good man," Lana said with heartfelt conviction. "I don't know what he's like in your world, but he's always been a good friend to Clark and me. I'm not about to turn against him now, just because another Lex Luthor made a few bad decisions in another reality."

It took quite a bit of self-control for Lois not to point out that the Lex she knew had done more than simply make "a few bad decisions". It wasn't like her companion was going to be inclined to believe her, anyway. Plus, there was always a chance Lana and Clark were right; maybe the Lex in this world really was a completely different person than the man she knew. She was highly skeptical of the prospect, but stranger things had happened. Probably.

"Okay," she conceded with dignified grace as she rose to her feet and offered the other woman a benign smile. Then she ruined the entire effect with one final shot. "Just keep in mind that you and I know better than anyone that people aren't always what they appear to be, and some people are better than others at hiding their true nature." She'd tried to take the higher road, but there was a part of her that always did have to have the last word.

"Anyway," she continued, changing the subject abruptly when she glanced at the time on the microwave and realized how much of the day she'd already missed. "I don't want to be rude, but it's getting late and I still haven't found my way home so I was going to follow a few leads in town." Then, after an uncomfortable silence, she added awkwardly, "Of course, you could come with me if you want."

Lana shook her head, turning down the offer, for which Lois was profoundly grateful. As much as she was aware that this Clark wasn't her Clark, this Lana wasn't the Lana she knew, and there was no reason for her to feel awkward around either of them, she also couldn't deny that she simply felt more comfortable without the other woman around. "No," Lana said as Lois breathed an almost imperceptible sigh of relief. "I really should get back to the Talon. Clark doesn't mind being in charge of it in the morning, but he has to have someone else there with him during the afternoon rush. He just doesn't move very fast." As these last words left her mouth, she blushed and looked away. "And besides, he's supposed to drive to Metropolis in about an hour to pick up Mr. and Mrs. Kent from the hospital."

A few more torturous minutes of pained idle conversation and a couple of awkward goodbyes later, and Lois was left alone once more. Turning towards the stairs to the bedroom, she stretched a few kinks out of her back. The Kents' couch was comfortable enough, she supposed, but staying in an actual bed was far and away much better. She'd never before realized what Clark had given up for her when she'd commandeered his room, back when they first met, and she swore to herself now that she was definitely going to have to make it up to him when she finally found her way home.

As she threw on a new set of clothes from the emergency bag she'd rescued from the trunk of her car, Lois reminded herself firmly that none of the things Lana had told her earlier were any of her business. It wasn't her place to interfere. Clark's decision to give up his powers had nothing to do with her and she didn't have the right to judge him for doing so. His recent separation from his fiancé had even less.

With newfound – if somewhat tenuous – resolve, Lois jogged downstairs and was on her way to the door when she heard someone knocking on the other side. Sighing, she wondered who it could possibly be; at this point, she wouldn't be surprised if Clark's third grade teacher had chosen to make an appearance in order to comment on her former pupil's choices in life and the relationships he'd formed since leaving her classroom. Actually, if it was anyone other than possibly the mailman (or perhaps a physicist touring each home in the country to discuss his theories on transportation between realities – that would be okay, too), Lois was sure she was going to crack.

Her heart heavy in her chest, Lois threw open the door. Seeing who was on the other side, she released the breath she'd unintentionally been holding and smiled in greeting. "Chloe!" she cried in relief. "I didn't know you were going to be able to come down today!" When they'd last spoken on the phone, Chloe had mentioned having to work during the day, but she'd promised to try to come down when she got off in the evening.

"Neither did I," said her cousin abruptly as she brushed past Lois and entered the house. Though she did her best to offer up a mirroring smile, she didn't quite succeed, and Lois's smile fell as her stomach plummeted. Without preamble, Chloe blurted, "Lois, we need to talk."


	19. Warning

Lois was always a proponent of the idea that a good defense was a strong offense, so she didn't wait for the attack she knew was coming. "Okay, I know I shouldn't have lied to you about my engagement to Clark, and I _really_ shouldn't have picked your boyfriend when I was trying to come up with a different name…which it just occurs to me you probably didn't know," she amended with a wince before charging ahead. "But I just want to say, in my defense, that I have been under a lot of stress lately and I really think you should consider…"

"Wait. What?" Chloe's double-take would have made Lois laugh if it weren't for the fact that her stomach had just dropped. So maybe she had been a little overeager to make sure she was the one to make the first volley; it seemed she'd actually accomplished nothing more than to give the other side more ammunition. "What was that?"

"Um…nothing, apparently," she said with forced nonchalance. "You were saying?"

Raising a hand in a halting gesture, Chloe gave her head a quick little shake. "Okay…well, we'll talk about that later." With a little frown and another small shake, she amended, "Maybe much later. But for right now, there's actually something more important than… My boyfriend? _Really?_ Jimmy and I are…he's my boyfriend?" she spluttered, and Lois looked pained as she nodded her head gingerly. "I mean, I think he's cute, but…" With a deep breath, Chloe clearly took a moment to focus. "But this isn't the time, and now we're really getting off the point."

More than happy to let the subject drop, Lois shifted and readjusted her weight, unconsciously putting herself into a fighting stance. "Okay…so, not that I'm not happy to see you, but what was it you wanted to talk about?"

"Right. Well, actually, I…I thought you should know, Uncle Sam's on his way to Smallville; he's coming to visit Dad. I didn't get all the details, but I think he should arrive sometime today," Chloe informed her companion, the anxiousness in her voice seemingly disproportionate to the topic at hand.

Thrown by this statement, which was not at all what Lois had expected, she had to take a moment to mull over the situation in a search for its severity. Chloe was clearly worried, but Lois didn't see the problem. Of course, she had to make sure not to run into her dad (that would certainly take some explaining), but other than that, it didn't seem like the kind of news worth skipping work and making the long drive down from Metropolis to impart. "Okay," she said slowly, staring at her cousin in bewilderment. "Is that it? Because for a minute there, I thought you were going to tell me something truly horrible, and even though my dad's visits often require a bit of mental preparation on my part, they're hardly earth-shattering," she joked. Then, when a thought occurred to her, she added, "But, wait a second; didn't you say he never comes to visit?"

Rather than reassuring the younger woman, Lois's words only seemed to agitate her further. Shifting her weight anxiously, she cleared her throat and replied, "Well, y-yes. I guess he's just decided to make an exception."

Narrowing her eyes, Lois gazed searchingly at Chloe as she crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, "I don't know what's got you all worked up, but you might as well fess up, Chlo; I can tell there's more going on here. What is it that's really bothering you?"

Chloe's shoulders drooped, and she bowed her head to stare at the ground for a long moment. Then, just when Lois was about to press her further, she braced her shoulders and met her cousin's eyes once more. "Okay. There is something I – I'm not really sure how to tell you this, but…your dad's coming to Smallville to visit Dad because he…" She paused and a spasm of some emotion crossed her features too quickly for Lois to identify its cause. Then, taking a deep breath, she blurted, "Lois, they've found your body."

For the next few seconds, Lois didn't respond. She couldn't; she was too stunned by these words to process their meaning. "They – they what?" she finally managed to choke out.

Her face screwed up in pain, Chloe replied, "Dad got a call from Uncle Sam last night. Apparently, a few days ago, there were a couple of mountain climbers who…well, I actually don't know what happened, exactly. One of them fell or something, but they…somehow, they came across…they found your body. I-it took them a few days to identify the r-remains, but Uncle Sam said…" No longer able to speak, Chloe broke off and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to stem the flow of tears that had started to fall.

Feeling more helpless than she ever had before, Lois stepped forward and reached for the crying woman, but her hands hovered uselessly above shaking shoulders. She had absolutely no idea what to do. How was she supposed to offer comfort when her cousin was grieving over – in a certain sense – Lois's own death? Chloe's breath started to come in pathetic little hiccups as she pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, and Lois couldn't take it any longer. Regardless of the surreal nature of the circumstances, there was no way she could witness such pain and not at least try to provide what comfort she could.

Wrapping her arms around Chloe's shoulders, she pulled her cousin into a tight hug and stroked the back of her head comfortingly. "Oh, Chlo, I'm so sorry," she said, knowing the words were insufficient but unable to think of anything better.

"I-it's stupid; I shouldn't be crying like this." It took a while before Chloe could regain control enough to speak; when she did, it was with a humorless laugh, brought on by the force of extreme emotion that lacked a sufficient outlet. "It's actually…it's terrible. I kept hoping…but at least we finally _know_ , and I…I thought it would…"

"I understand," Lois replied, pulling back far enough to brush a few tears off her cousin's cheek.

With a watery smile, Chloe took a step back, out of Lois's arms. Smoothing out her shirt with restless movement, she took a moment to regain her composure and then met Lois's eyes again. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to go on like that. It's just…it feels like everything's happening all at once."

"It's okay," Lois said reassuringly, feeling – for the first time since arriving in this alternate universe – that she completely understood. Then, because she was never very comfortable with displays of intense emotion, she tried to find a way to change the subject. Unfortunately, she couldn't think of one.

Finally, in an effort to break the long, awkward silence that had fallen between the two of them, Chloe said, "Anyway, I also wanted to warn you that, according to Ji-James," she corrected herself quickly, a slight blush tinting her cheeks, "there should be an article in this morning's edition of the _Daily Planet_ about the…the discovery."

This caught Lois's attention, and she paused. "The _Planet_? Really?" Of course, she knew that anything that happened in the world was under her paper's purview – she'd certainly covered a number of international events during her tenure – but it wouldn't have occurred to her that the disappearance (and subsequent discovery) of a sixteen year old girl in a country far away would have been particularly newsworthy.

Frowning, Chloe replied almost apologetically. "It won't be a big article. I think about three paragraphs on page eighty two. But it was actually pretty big news when you – or, rather, when she – disappeared. Young girl, sixteen years old, daughter of an esteemed General, lost on a mountaintop on the other side of the world…? I guess the _Planet_ just wanted to wrap things up. But, anyway, I think they may also publish a picture alongside the article, so…" her voice trailed off, but she didn't really need to continue her thought, anyway. Lois's physical appearance hadn't changed that much since high school; if there was going to be a picture of her floating around, she was going to have to be extra careful about hiding her identity.

Lois began to pace back and forth in agitation. Things were complicated enough; now there was going to be a newspaper article with a photograph to make them even more so? She couldn't think of any way this situation could get any worse, but maybe she shouldn't even entertain the thought. Apparently, the universe had a remarkable capacity to surprise.

But now probably wasn't the time to reflect about the capriciousness of the universe, fate, or the situation at hand. Not when she contemplated what the staggering implications of what such a poorly-timed article – complete with photograph – could be. Grabbing Chloe's arm, she began to forcibly propel her back to the door. "Come on; we've got to get out of here."

"What? Why?" Chloe spluttered as the sudden unexpected forward momentum caused her to trip over her own feet.

"Because I have it on good authority that the Luthors read the Planet from cover to cover every day, and I don't have time to deal with Lex's curiosity right now." At her cousin's confused expression, she explained a touch sheepishly, "I met him last night and…well…kinda told him my name. Then, of course, Clark decided to be helpful and volunteered the information that I was staying here. And I know, when Lex comes across those three paragraphs on page eighty two – and I have no doubt he will at some point – the first thing he's going to want to do is come over here and ask me a number of questions I don't even begin to have answers to. Actually, considering how everything's been going for me lately, I wouldn't be surprised if he was on his way right now."

"Okay…," Chloe said, almost stumbling as she tried to keep up with Lois's brisk pace. "So where is it we're going, exactly?"

" _Smallville Electric_ ," Lois replied succinctly. "A man named Dennis is supposed to have some information for me, and I'm hoping it may help me get home."

With a sharp cry, Chloe yanked her hand out of Lois's and came to an abrupt halt. "That's it? That's what you've decided to do? You're not going to even try to…"

Though she knew she should attempt to maintain at least a façade of patience and understanding, Lois's nerves were stretched as taut as they could go. For days, she'd been forced to withstand as much as – if not more than – she could handle, and she'd had to it all while feeling like a large, vital part of her was missing.

She just didn't know what people wanted from her. Lois had always had a knack for interfering in other people's lives, trying to do what she could to help. But she hadn't had even the tiniest bit of that self-assurance the entire time she'd been in this other universe, and she honestly didn't know what to do. She didn't know why this world's Lois had stayed on that mountain and gotten herself killed, and she really didn't know how to even begin to make Chloe feel better. She didn't know what to do about Lana and Clark's relationship, but then again, when it came to Clark, she didn't know what to do about him at all.

"What do you want me to do?" she demanded, her voice taking on an unattractive shrillness as she whirled on her unsuspecting companion.

"I don't know!" Chloe cried in exasperation. "But I can't believe you're just going to leave things like this! You know your dad feels guilty about what happened to Lois; you're not even going to try to do something to make him feel better?"

With raised eyebrows, Lois crossed her arms over her chest and demanded in a tone that was still strained, "And how am I supposed to do that, exactly? Because I know the General, and I can tell you that if I contact him at this point, one of two things is going to happen: he's either going to have a heart attack at seeing the daughter he now believes is dead, or he's going to take me into custody using whatever force he deems necessary and take me far away from here in an attempt to make sure I'm 'safe'. I don't know how well you know my dad, but I can guarantee you that, if he does that, I'm never going to find my way home. And, even if I could, do you honestly think it would make him feel better to think he had me back from the dead, only to lose me again? I don't like the idea of him carrying any guilt over his daughter's death any more than you do, but I really don't think I can do anything about it at this point."

Setting her jaw stubbornly, Chloe crossed her arms across her chest and declared, "Lois, I know you. There has to be something you can do."

"There isn't!" Lois almost yelled, losing the tenuous grasp she'd managed to regain on her composure. "There's nothing I can do about that or anything else! And I'm tired! Can you understand that I'm _tired_? I'm tired of everyone thinking I have all the answers! I don't know where you got this idea, but I don't have a clue what I'm doing here, and I've never been so scared in my life, because I don't know what's going to happen next! I don't know how to get home – or even _if_ I can get home – and I can't even begin to think about what'll happen to me if I'm stuck here permanently! I don't know what's going to happen if Lex Luthor finds out that I'm supposed to be dead, and I don't know how to stop him from doing so!

"I'm tired, and I'm scared, and I'm heartbroken, and I just want to go home. That's the only thing I know for sure; I want to go _home_. So, could you please just…the answer is that I don't _know_ what to do about any of this, but please…I can't worry about what I'll do two hours in the future, not when I have to concentrate on getting through the next two minutes, just to make it through the day. Please, just let me take this a step at a time."

When her mini-tirade was over, Lois was left feeling exhausted and only about two inches tall. She hadn't meant to lose her temper, and she _really_ hadn't meant to take her frustrations out on Chloe. Her shame was only compounded when her cousin maintained her dignity as she replied softly, "Look, Lois, I know that you want to go home, and I understand that you have a life you want to get back to. I get that; really, I do. But you've spent the last few days thinking about how this sudden transportation has affected you; you have to understand that you're not the only one whose life has been changed by all of this.

"I know that you have to go back, that there's another Ji-Clark out there waiting for you somewhere, and another Chloe, and, for all I know, another Lex Luthor, as well. But what you don't seem to get is that I don't know anything about them, and this is _my_ life. Whether or not it makes me an awful person, I just can't help but wish you _could_ stay. So don't be mad at me for wanting that, because I'm glad you're here – and that's not just because I've missed the cousin I loved. I'm going to miss _you_. You've done so much for me, and I…I guess I wish you could stay, somehow."

With a self-depreciating smile, Lois murmured, "I appreciate the thought, but I really haven't made that much of a difference. I know you'll miss me, but…I think life will get pretty much back to normal after I leave."

Fixing her cousin with a long look, Chloe replied in the same tone, "I think you're selling yourself short, Lois. I can't really talk for anyone else, but…I think there's very little around here that'll go back to the way it used to be once you're gone."

There really wasn't much she could say to that, so Lois shook her head. Okay, so maybe she hadn't taken the time to really consider how her sudden appearance might have affected the people in this reality, and she certainly hadn't spared a lot of thought to how they would deal when she made the sudden return to her own world that she so longed for. In part, this was because she didn't really want to deal with the potential for guilt – she didn't want to have any second thoughts at all about returning to the people she loved. However, there was also a part of her that honestly thought there was no way she could possibly have had that much of an impact on these people's lives, not in the short time she'd been there. But, considering this was the second time in as many days that someone had implied otherwise, perhaps that philosophy could stand another look.

Not right now, though. She didn't know that she could handle being given that much responsibility, even when she was at the top of her game – she was absolutely certain that kind of realization was too much for her to broach while she felt like she was one small surprise away from completely falling apart.

As if she realized the precarious state of her companion's sanity – or at least her composure – Chloe took Lois's arm and continued their previous forward motion towards the door, though they were moving at a far more reasonable pace than they had been before. "Come on," she said briskly as they walked. "I believe you said something about having an appointment with a man named Dennis."

Before they headed over to the electric company, Lois asked that they swing by the place she'd parked the truck the night before. She wanted to get it back to the farm before the Kents returned. Though the trip to and from the area around the Luthor Mansion was without incident, Lois's anxiety didn't fade the entire time. More and more, she was beginning to feel like she was living on borrowed time and somehow, all these near-misses she'd been surviving lately were going to catch up with her if she didn't get back to her own world again soon. She had been fairly lucky so far, but now that she'd made herself vulnerable to the Luthors, she couldn't bet on that luck holding out much longer.

It was only once she had the promised information in hand that she began to breathe normally again, though she did have to do a little creative sidestepping when Dennis asked her on a date as payment for the favor he had so kindly granted her. Shuddering at the thought of even an hour spent in the company of a man whose gaze never traveled above her collarbone, she gave him just enough hope for him to hand over the papers while not leading him on too much. The last thing she needed at this point was an admirer lurking about, getting in the way.

"So, where should we go?" Chloe asked as Lois all but dived back into the car.

"Anywhere away from here," Lois grumbled as she quickly pulled her hair into a ponytail and pulled a stack of papers out of the manila envelope she'd been given.

Smirking, Chloe replied, "Wow. It's really great to be working with someone whose instructions are so specific." Her cousin was too preoccupied to take the bait, however, so she cleared her throat and asked in a more businesslike tone, "But, you know, I'd like to help you if you'd tell me what it is we're doing." At Lois's confused glance, she nodded towards the papers. "What are those, exactly?"

"Oh!" Lois cried. "I'm sorry; I didn't realize I hadn't…," her voice trailed off and she shook her head. Then, as Chloe directed the car towards the center of town, Lois waved the papers about excitedly and said, "This is a breakdown of the areas of town that were afflicted by what we've decided was an EMP. There's a listing of the times each area of the grid went down, so I figured…"

"Working backwards, you might be able to find out where, exactly, the EMP originated, which might give you a clue what brought you here," Chloe finished as understanding dawned. "That's a good idea!"

With a smirk of pride, her cousin replied, "Thanks." Then, glancing at the papers in her hands, her face fell and she frowned. "The problem is that Dennis went above and beyond in his attempts to impress my cleavage. These aren't broken down by area; he gave me a list of each of the individual houses. Which would be helpful, I suppose, except that my knowledge of Smallville's geography isn't what it used to be. Clark and I only really come down to visit Mrs. Kent, so…"

Without waiting for to be asked, Chloe pulled the wheel sharply to the right and drove into the parking lot of a small gas station. "Wait here," she said perfunctorily, then hopped out of the car and ran inside. Two minutes later, she returned with a map in her hand, which she offhandedly tossed into Lois's lap. "Come on. I figure, between the two of us, we probably remember enough about the area to get through that information pretty quickly. After all, it's a pretty small town, right? Let's head some place where we can spread out, and then we'll get started."

After much debate, they headed with some reluctance towards the Talon. While they both agreed that heading to the only really popular hangout in town was probably not the best idea for someone who wanted to remain incognita, there was something to be said for the argument that nobody would look for her out in plain sight. Plus, it wasn't likely Lex would stop by for a cup of coffee, so she was probably safe from him. Also – and perhaps most importantly – Lois was dying for some caffeine. And since the tables were large enough to allow the two women to spread out the street map Chloe'd purchased, the Talon was an ideal spot.

Without preamble, the two women strolled through the front door and headed towards a quiet table near the back. Then, after the waitress had taken their orders and subsequently dropped off two of the largest coffees in the house, they delved into the information. For Lois, this type of research was nothing new, though it was the part of the job she liked the least; she'd much rather be out _doing_ something – even if that meant putting life and limb on the line – than sitting at a desk staring at a list of times and places. Of course, being the reporter that she was, she inevitably sucked it up and muddled through, but it was definitely one aspect of her job where she appreciated having a partner. Somehow, even the most boring parts of being a reporter were more enjoyable with Clark around.

Firmly shoving the thought out of her mind, Lois divided the stack of paper Dennis had supplied roughly in half and passed a handful to Chloe. As the two women delved into the arduous chore of making sense of it all, time seemed to slip away. Lois didn't realize how long she'd been stooped over the roadmap, making various notations in pencil, until she looked up from her work with the intention of calling their waitress over and realized her back was stiff.

Groaning, she stretched and glanced at her wristwatch with a slight frown. It was getting late; she was surprised Clark hadn't returned yet from his trip to Metropolis. At least, she assumed he hadn't returned, since she hadn't seen him.

"Hey, you want some more coffee?" she asked Chloe, who seemed startled by the sudden question and then grimaced with discomfort herself. With a chuckle, Lois nodded to the cup of ice-cold dregs by her cousin's elbow. "Didn't mean to startle you; just thought you'd like a refill."

"Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks," Chloe replied, frowning as she stretched a kink out of her neck. When Lois grabbed the mugs and rose, she followed suit. "And, actually, I'll be right back," she said, glancing significantly at the door leading to the restrooms.

As Chloe headed into the other room, Lois walked up to the woman behind the counter and passed over the empty mugs, asking nonchalantly as she did so, "Hey, would you happen to know where I could find Clark? Or Lana?" she added, realizing she hadn't seen the other woman either. "I'm…ah…an old friend of the Kents', and I just wanted to say hi."

Handing back the newly refilled mugs, the younger girl replied, managing to sound both curious and somewhat awkward, "Oh, I'm sorry, haven't you heard? Clark's parents spent last night in a hospital in Metropolis; his dad had to have some tests done. He picked them up earlier today, but his dad collapsed when they got home, so he…"

"What?" Lois cried, almost lunging across the counter. "Is he okay? Is Mr. Kent okay?" she demanded fiercely, barely resisting the urge to grab the younger girl and shake any and all pertinent information out of her.

Looking vaguely alarmed, the barista replied, "I-I don't know…we just got a call from Lana, and she said…"

But Lois didn't wait around to find out just what it was exactly that Lana had said. She bolted out the front door of the Talon before she'd even realized she'd made a conscious decision to move, and she kept running until she reached the hospital. As she ran, one thought echoed repeatedly in her brain: _Please, no; not again. I can't be too late again._


	20. Fathers

A few blocks from the hospital, Lois's complete and utter fixation on her goal almost cost her life when she darted across the street without bothering to stop first to check that the coast was clear. When the angry blaring of a horn finally caught her attention, she jumped out of the way just as the car sped by, the right corner of its front bumper passing perilously close to her leg.

Eager though she was to get to the hospital as quickly as possible, she wasn't enthusiastic about the idea about arriving in an ambulance. Shaken, she stumbled to a halt and took a moment to catch her breath and get her bearings. Resting her palms on her knees, she bent over and tried to suck some air into burning lungs; her daily exercise regimen clearly wasn't adequate preparation for the sustained sprint she was attempting. Still, though her lungs still felt like they were on fire and she had a stitch forming in her side that threatened to steal whatever breath she was managing to suck in through her ragged gasps of air, she didn't want to wait too long. Every moment she wasted standing by the side of the road was a moment she might be losing with Jonathan Kent.

With a slight wince, Lois straightened and was about to set off again when she heard a very familiar voice behind her cry incredulously, "Lois?" Her stomach dropped as she turned to look over her shoulder. There, on the other side of the street, was the man she was most eager to avoid: General Sam Lane. He didn't look much like the father she knew – the years wore more heavily on this man's face, and he looked more defeated by life that she ever could have imagined her dad ever becoming – but there was no doubt in her mind who he was. "Hello, Da–" she started to say automatically, but she stopped herself with a gulp before the word was fully spoken.

Struck motionless in both shock and horror, Lois didn't move until her father started to cross the street to approach her. "It…it really is you, isn't it? But I don't…My Little Lo–" he began in a choked voice.

Like a rabbit galvanized into action by the approach of a potential predator, the sound of the familiar endearment broke the spell, and she turned away from the man approaching her and veered to the left to sprint down the nearby alley. She could hear his cries chase after her as she ran, and though she was in reasonably good shape, the fire in her lungs had somehow suddenly spread to the rest of her body. She was being torn in two, between her need to rush to the side of a man who might be dying, a man who had been like a father to her in another life, and her need to either comfort – or potentially escape (she couldn't be sure which impulse was stronger) – the man who so obviously still mourned the loss of his eldest child.

Still, though her heart ached at the memory of the pain on her father's face, she couldn't afford to delay in getting to the hospital. She had lost Jonathan Kent once without having an opportunity to say goodbye; she'd be damned if she did so again.

She came through the side door to the hospital at a dead run, almost knocking down a passing nurse as she charged down the hallway towards the nurse's station. Skidding to a halt, Lois grabbed on to the alarmed woman and demanded through her labored gasps, "Jonathan…Kent….where…is he?" When her inquiry failed to elicit an answer fast enough, she squeezed the shoulder she held tight and pleaded in a pained whisper, "Please….I have…to see him."

"He's…he's in room 104," the nurse supplied once she'd recovered from her surprise. "It's just down…"

But Lois didn't need directions; heaven knew she'd spent enough time at this hospital over the years. Spinning on her heel, she charged back down the hall the way she'd come, blowing past the exit she'd stormed through as she made her way to the T-juncture straight ahead. One left turn followed by a right and she'd find his hospital room door just around another corner.

In her desperation to get to Mr. Kent in time, Lois nearly sped past her destination. Skidding to a halt, she stumbled and almost fell, but she somehow managed to regain her balance at the last second. Then, spinning quickly, she took as deep a breath as she could manage and charged through the door.

"I understand, Doc. I'll be sure to –" Contrary to Lois's expectations, Jonathan wasn't laying prostrate in the hospital bed, hooked up to various tubes and wires. In fact, he was standing in the middle of the room talking to a man in a white lab coat, with every apparent intention of leaving the hospital entirely.

"What are you doing?" Lois shrieked, causing both men to jump, and while a part of her acknowledged that it probably wasn't the best idea to so startle a man with a heart condition, she figured a little surprise was the least of his worries after she got through with him. What could he possibly be thinking? Was he trying to kill himself?

"No, of course not," he replied comfortingly, which was when Lois realized that she'd actually spoken a good portion of her internal monologue aloud. "But I swear, I feel fine. In fact, I was just talking with the doctor, and…"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lois fixed the older man with a glare that had convinced more than one of her father's soldiers to do as she commanded, "Mr. Kent, from what I understand, you collapsed earlier today. I don't care if you feel like doing a samba, you need to lay down," At this, she pointed emphatically at the bed behind him, "and take it easy until I'm absolutely certain that you're going to be okay." And she swore she was going to do whatever it took to ensure his safety, even if it involved calling on an entire platoon of specialists to look after his health.

"Lois," Jonathan interrupted as he took a step towards her and rested his hands comfortingly upon her shoulders. "I'm fine. The episode I had earlier today was a side effect of one of the medications the doctors put me on this morning. I know you're worried about me, but I promise you that I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

Uncertain whether or not to believe him, Lois glanced at the doctor who was trying to hide his sudden awkward discomfort under a veneer of professionalism, and, in response to her unspoken question, he nodded. Looking back at the man in front of her, she felt her face begin to crumple as she whispered, "You're not going to die? You promise?" Before he could answer, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder, barely even registering the doctor's hasty step away and subsequent departure through the door. When hot tears started to fall on her cheeks, she squeezed her eyes shut and tightened her hold. "I-I thought I was going to be too late again," she whimpered, all of her terror and distress finally finding an outlet. "I c-couldn't bear to think…"

Stroking her back soothingly, Jonathan murmured, "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. I don't plan on going anywhere just yet; you haven't lost me this time." He rocked her gently and hugged her tight as she cried, imparting what comfort he could until she finally regained control of herself and pulled away slightly. Then, smiling softly at her bashful expression, he leaned over to grab a tissue out of the box on the nearby table and offered it to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled through her sniffles. "I-I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…I just thought…when I heard that you'd c-collapsed, I thought…"

"You thought you were going to be too late to say goodbye," he finished gently, taking her hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

Her head bowed, Lois mumbled, "I…I was actually in the hospital when…but nobody told me, not until it was too late. And I just…" her voice trailed off, and when she looked up at the man in front of her, her eyes were wet with tears once more. "There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so many things I never got a chance to say. And I was so _stupid_ …I lost so many opportunities because I never thought…He was the father I always wished I'd had, and I never…I never told him that…I never told him I loved him." She spoke in a choked voice, almost forcing out each word. She had spent so much time after Jonathan Kent's death, wishing she'd had the chance to tell him all those things she'd never thought to say, and now that she had a chance to do so, she had no idea where to begin.

"He was always there for me, from the moment I met him. I was this…this stupid aimless college dropout, without much of a future ahead of her, and he…he _believed_ in me. He…he took me in, and he cared for me, and he…he was just so…He made me feel like I was actually worth something, for a change – like there was maybe more to me than acting as my little sister's keeper. And I wanted to do so much to – to prove to him that he was right about me, that his faith in me was justified, but then, when he needed me the most, I…I wasn't there. He _needed_ me, and I couldn't get to him in time, and I just can't help thinking every day of all those things I stupidly never told him. And I wonder if he could possibly have known how much he meant to me, or how very, very sorry I am." Her voice broke off once more on a sob, and, forgetting the tissue she'd tucked in her pocket, she raised her palms and tried to wipe away her tears in a futile gesture.

Reaching forward to brush Lois's hair off her forehead, Jonathan began to murmur reassuringly, "I'm sure you don't have anything to be sorry about," but his voice trailed off when she shook her head abruptly.

"No. I do; I don't care what Clark says. You know, I've always wondered, if I hadn't gotten hurt that night, if I'd stayed with him at the party…or maybe I pushed him too much! I knew he didn't have the strongest heart; maybe I worked him too hard on the campaign! Maybe I should have let him take it easy more often; maybe I should have…And then Martha and Clark were so devastated, I couldn't…I didn't really have the _right_ to cry for him, not since my grief couldn't possibly even compare to…and every time I almost did, I'd see the pain on their faces and I just…I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do anything that would be any kind of reminder for them, so I…I just didn't."

Stepping forward, Jonathan wrapped his arms around Lois and hugged her tight as she began to cry once more. When her tears had subsided somewhat, he murmured, "Lois, he knew all those things. I guarantee you; he knew how much you cared about him. And I also know he was incredibly proud of you."

Lifting her head off his shoulder so she could meet his eyes, she demanded desperately, "How could you be so _sure_?"

"Because I know I am." At her astonished look, he smiled gently and reached up to brush her hair off her forehead. "I know I haven't known you very long, but do you have any idea what an incredible woman you are? I've watched you pretty closely since you arrived – granted, at first, it was because I thought you might be insane." Lois chuckled softly at the memory and he rested his hands on her shoulders as he gazed intently into her eyes. "When I think about what you must be going through…I can't imagine what I would do if I found myself in a similar situation. I can tell you one thing: there is no way I'd handle myself with the same amount of grace and dignity that you have."

When she thought about all the things she'd managed not to say out loud over the last few days, when she thought about all the times she'd almost given in to the temptation to indulge in a hysterical fit of some sort, she winced. Ruefully, she murmured, "I think you may be overestimating the extent of my composure."

His smile didn't falter. "If you say so," he agreed in a tone that clearly implied that he didn't agree, but he was willing to humor her.

A moment's pause fell between them before he spoke again; when he did, his voice was low and earnest. "Lois, I don't know what you were like when you were younger; I wish I'd had the chance. But you are an amazing young woman, and I would have been proud to have had you for a daughter. I only regret that there's no way for me to see you and your fiancé together; after all the years Clark spent worrying that he would spend his life alone – and after all the time Martha and I worried that he would never allow himself to really get close to anyone – I know there's no way any Jonathan Kent could have felt anything less than overjoyed to discover the two of you finally found each other."

As if realizing that she was seconds away from tearing up again, he dropped his arms and lightened the moment by saying in a slightly joking tone, "Besides, your Jonathan would have to have been blind not to see that you cared about him. You aren't very good at hiding your emotions."

"Really?" Lois responded in kind with a shaky laugh. "Because it took Clark _forever_ to pick up on how I felt about him, so I always assumed otherwise."

As she stepped back from him, he teased, "Yes, well, my son has always had a certain stubbornness to him that sometimes makes him see only what he wants to see."

Arching her eyebrows, she replied dryly, "And I can't imagine who he could have modeled that particular personality trait after." Then, after wiping her eyes one last time – just to make sure the last of her tears had been swept away – she offered him a smile that was shaky but genuine nevertheless.

Blowing out a long breath, Jonathan regarded her closely. "You know, as sorry as I am that this has been so hard on you, I can't honestly say I'm sorry you came. I'm glad we all got the chance to meet you; I only wish that my son could find the same happiness some day that I know you and your fiancé share."

Lois sucked in a sharp breath and gazed at the man in front of her with searching eyes. Her surprise at his words was such that she didn't immediately register that hers wasn't the only gasp to have been heard in the room. Turning, she saw Clark in the doorway. He was looking from her to her companion in amazement, and it didn't take someone who knew him as well as she did to realize he'd heard the last of his father's words.

"Ah," she began awkwardly, quickly scooting backwards as Clark stepped into the room.

Moving next to her, he tore his eyes away from his father and cleared his throat. "I…ah…I got a call from Chloe. She was worried about you; she said you disappeared suddenly."

Grimacing guiltily, Lois rubbed her forehead. "Yeah…we were working together at the Talon when I heard about your dad. I should have probably told her where I was going. I should give her a call."

Brushing past him, she headed towards the door and moved to take the phone Clark held out for her, but he grabbed the hand she reached towards his and stopped her, murmuring, "I'm sorry I wasn't around earlier to help you. If you want, I can go with you when you head back."

Nodding, she cast a look back over her shoulder. "That'd be great, but for right now, you need to talk to him, Clark. Trust me, you don't want to keep putting off things that need to be said, because you don't want to lose your last chance to do so." With a nod towards the elder Kent, she took the phone out of Clark's hand and smiled encouragingly. "You can always come meet me when you're finished here."

As she left him to take care of some necessary business and walked out into the hall, she flipped open the phone she held and brought up the call history to get Chloe's number. "Hey, Chlo," she said apologetically as her cousin picked up the other end of the line. "Sorry I just ran out on you back there. I know I should have told you where I was going, but I got some bad news about Mr. Kent and just ran to the hospital without thinking."

"It's okay," Chloe replied. "I understand. I just got a little freaked out when I got back to our table and saw that you were gone, but I talked to Clark and he told me what happened. Is Mr. Kent really going to be okay?"

"Yeah. Apparently, it was just a reaction to some medication. So we should be getting out of here soon, actually."

Chloe interrupted, "That's good, because I actually finished plotting out those blackout times on the map, and you really need to see this."

That got Lois's attention. Leaning forward eagerly, she demanded, "Were you able to tell where it originated?"

A sigh, and then Chloe replied, "Well, kind of. It'll really make more sense if I show you. Will you be…?"

A sound behind Lois caused her to turn, and she swallowed heavily as she saw the man stepping around the corner. "Just…just a second, Chlo. Something just came up. Let me…ah…let me call you back." Clicking the phone shut, she forced a welcoming smile and hoped desperately that the article on page eighty two had been small and insignificant enough to have been overlooked. "Hello, Mr. Luthor," she greeted him with as much warmth as she could muster. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"The Kents are very close, personal friends of mine. I rushed right over when I heard the news," he responded in kind. "And, please, call me Lex." Considering that he was decked out in full tuxedo, she wondered what he'd been doing when he heard the news about Mr. Kent. On the other hand, she was so eager to put distance between them that she didn't indulge her curiosity enough to ask.

Nodding, she said, "Of course…Lex. But only if you call me Lois." Then, clearing her throat, she had to resist the urge to take a step back, away from him, as he gave her an assessing look. "Well, I'm sure you'll be happy to know that they say Mr. Kent's going to be okay," she offered, more to break the silence than to offer up information she thought he didn't already have. The nature of the Luthor family made it unlikely that there was very much that they didn't have the tenacity and resources to know before anyone else – with one very notable exception, of course.

"I know; I talked to his doctors. But I am glad that you're here, Lois. I was hoping to see you again."

With a mouth gone suddenly dry, she croaked, "Really?"

Nodding, he smiled. "You seem surprised. I find it hard to believe that a beautiful woman like yourself is unaccustomed to being sought out."

She hoped her relief wasn't too visible as she relaxed suddenly. "But I think it's safe to say that you're a lot different than most of the other men I've known," she responded with a flirtatious smile.

"But sadly, I didn't meet you first," he said with a mirroring grin, nodding at her left hand. Lois startled and glanced at the ring with a grimace; she never thought about the fact that Lex would have to eventually notice the engagement band, and now he was going to have even more questions that Lois wasn't going to know how to answer, even if she was so inclined. "It's a very lovely ring," he continued. "May I ask who's the lucky man?"

"He's…it's not important. We're…not together any more," she prevaricated, hoping it would stave off his curiosity about the subject.

When she finally managed to tear her eyes off her engagement ring, she looked up at her companion to see that his eyebrows were arched, and he was gazing at her with a curious expression on his face. "Then he's an idiot to let you go." Taking her left hand in his own, he glanced down at it for a moment before asking, "But since I can't imagine any man being foolish enough to willingly leave you, I suspect you were the one who actually broke it off. And that begs the question, why do you still wear his ring?"

Her fingers jerked slightly and she sucked in a sharp breath when he met her eyes once more. Lois didn't know how she knew it, but she could tell that his questions weren't a matter of idle curiosity. But, then again, it was foolish of her to have thought even for a moment that he wouldn't notice she was sporting a ring that was identical to Lana Lang's. Gently disengaging her hand from his, she dropped it to her side and tried to hide her engagement band behind her leg as casually as possible. "I guess some things are just harder to let go of than we would have imagined," she responded in a voice that made it clear the subject was no longer up for discussion.

"Hm. I can certainly appreciate how hard it is to let go sometimes," he said, his gaze searching her face closely – though for what, she couldn't tell. "It really is unfortunate that we sometimes hurt the ones we care about the most by holding on for too long."

It took Lois a moment to realize what he was really trying to caution her about. It seemed he had noticed the striking similarity between her ring and Lana's, put two and two together, and come up with five. Thankfully. Of course, it now appeared that he had jumped to the conclusion that she and Clark used to be engaged, somehow, and her presence in Smallville now was going to cause trouble between Clark and the woman the rest of the world thought he was going to marry. "I didn't come here to hurt anybody," she told him honestly. "Anyway, I'm not going to be here for too much longer. There are just…one or two things that I need to sort out, and then I expect you'll never see me again."

"Well, that will be a shame," Lex replied with what sounded like sincerity, and while the subject of her engagement seemed closed, the strange moment that had fallen between them didn't entirely lift. While apparently, however he pieced together the situation in his mind, he had come to the conclusion that she meant what she had said, she still couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. "You're a very interesting woman, Lois. I wish I had more time to get to know you better."

With a wry smile, she shot back in a parody of her earlier playful tone, "I doubt that, Lex. I appreciate the sentiment, but I expect you'd find me far more trouble to handle than you'd think it was worth. Besides, I'm really not as interesting as you think. In fact, in a lot of ways, I'm quite boring, really."

"You really think so?" he asked mildly. "Because I think anyone who goes through all he trouble of faking her own death has to be mildly intriguing, at the very least."

Lois winced. There it was. The other shoe. For those who had lost track of the score over the last couple of days, she would place it at something like The Universe: 372, Lois Lane: 0.

"Wow. You really don't believe in pulling your punches, do you?" she groused under her breath as she scrambled for an explanation. It was curious, though, that he would lay all his cards out on the table, as he was doing. The Lex Luthor she knew would have kept all of his suspicions and any incriminating knowledge he had close to his vest, to be played at the moment that best suited his purposes – and, over the years, he had grown very, very good at using this tactic to manipulate people around him.

His smile didn't fool her a bit. She knew he was testing her, trying to figure her out. "I don't believe in standing back when I think my friends might get hurt," he corrected her.

"And you think I pose a threat?" she asked, stalling for time.

"I think you have a lot of secrets, Lois," he replied seriously.

It was all she could do not to scream. "And you're a man who can't resist secrets," she stated flatly. For a second, she thought about playing stupid, but in the end, she didn't think that would get her anywhere. Perhaps it would be best to tell him the truth – to a point – and let him fill in the details however he saw fit. "Well, I don't know what I can tell you about any of that, except to say that the situation's not what you think. It's…complicated."

Looking mildly amused and extremely interested, he replied, "It would have to be."

Nodding, Lois continued carefully, "Well, I'm sure you can imagine that sometimes it's necessary to go to extreme lengths to make sure that we lead the life we want, not the one that someone else might want for us."

The expression that crossed his face suddenly was enough to let her know he was connecting things in the way she had hoped he would. She knew that, in his younger years, he'd not wanted the destiny his father had laid out for him, which was what made his eventual embracing of that same destiny even more heartbreaking. "I think I understand," he said, looking at her sympathetically.

As there was precious little Lois wanted more than to extricate herself from the current conversation, she was almost overjoyed to see Clark when he threw open the door to his father's room and stepped out into the hall. "Lois!" he said in surprise as she caught his eye. "I would have figured you'd already headed back to the Talon by now."

"I was going to. I just stopped to talk to Lex for a few moments." As she spoke, she threw the man in question a significant look. While Clark stepped forward to greet him, she continued, "Anyway, I've got a problem, actually, and I'm not sure what I should do about it." Ideally, she'd rather not discuss anything in front of any member of the Luthor family, even if it was something that would likely only reinforce what he already believed. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. She was on borrowed time, and she knew it. The General had seen her, and he wasn't going to rest until he tracked her down to make sure she wasn't really his daughter. Considering the number of people who had to have heard by now that she was an "old friend of the Kents", and considering that her flight to the hospital hadn't exactly been inconspicuous, it wasn't going to be much longer until he found her. It was, in fact, frankly a miracle he had not done so already. But that meant it really wasn't safe to go back to the Talon – though of course she was going to have to do so in order to meet up with Chloe again. And once she met up with her cousin again, she dare not go back to the Kent Farm until she was certain the coast was clear.

Filling her companions in on these details as much as she dared, she cast an anxious glance down the hallway, as if expecting her father to spontaneously materialize at any moment. "I've got to get out of here," she murmured, her anxiety growing with each passing moment. She'd lost a lot of time, standing and talking with Lex. She knew her father was very good at tracking people down – heaven knew Lucy had given him plenty of practice over the years. It couldn't possibly be much longer before he showed up at the hospital.

Picking up on her agitation, Clark tensed and shifted as if he intended to grab on to her, but Lex got there first. She jumped and almost bolted when she felt his fingers wrap around her arm, but when she looked up at him, she saw that he was trying to be reassuring. "It's okay, Lois," he told her soothingly. "We'll get you out of here before your father gets here." Grabbing his cellphone, he flipped it open and dialed a number, though he didn't pull his eyes away from hers as he did so. "I'm going to call my driver and have him pick us up. He'll take you wherever you want to go. Don't worry; the windows on the limo are tinted, so nobody will be able to see you once you're inside."

"We really appreciate the help, Lex," Clark interjected, glancing back into the room behind him before turning to Lois with an apologetic look. "I should probably stick around to take my parents home, but I can meet up with you after. Here, take my key." He paused and rooted around in his pocket until he found his apartment door key, which he passed over to her. "Why don't you and Chloe work upstairs until I can get there; I'll try to get there as fast as I can. It's not a great solution, but at least you won't be out in public until we can figure out what to do next."

With a reluctant nod, Lois agreed. "Okay. Just…hurry." When Clark stepped back into the hospital room, she headed in after him long enough to hug the elder Kents goodbye and then walked with Lex over to the side exit. Together, they watched through the glass window until the limousine pulled up to the curb, and he escorted her out to the waiting vehicle.

A strained silence fell between them as the limo pulled away, but at least Lois took comfort in knowing the trip would be brief. While she was still nervous about being in his company for too long, it was the perfect opportunity to study him out of the corner of her eye. Both Clark and Lana seemed to think he wasn't the same man Lois knew, and while she knew that neither of the others had ever been accused of being excellent judges of character, she wondered if they were wrong, or if she was. After only a few moments, of her surreptitious gazing, however, Lex turned to her and said, "You seem to have something on your mind. Do you want to tell me about it?"

Startling, Lois's eyes shot guiltily towards the window. She knew she could – and probably should – avoid the issue, but she also knew her curiosity would eventually the best of her. As usual. It would probably be best if it happened sooner rather than later. Turning back to face him, she met his eyes unflinchingly as she said, "Honestly? I'm trying to figure you out."

He seemed surprised by her forthright answer, but his lips quirked as he asked mildly, "Is it really that hard?"

"A little." When he didn't reply, he just looked at her expectantly, she continued, "Actually, if you want to know the truth, you're…not exactly what I expected. And I just have to wonder, are you really as good a person as Clark believes you to be?"

Seeming bemused, he sat back and chuckled softly. "I don't know that anyone's as good as Clark believes them to be; he has the most amazing ability to always see the best in everyone."

"I know," she agreed, her voice tinged with both admiration and mild exasperation. It was one of the things she loved most about him, but it also occasionally drove her crazy – but, then again, she also tended to be far more cynical than her fiancé.

Momentarily distracted by her faults, she didn't realize Lex was still speaking. When she finally turned her attention back to him, she heard him say, "…it sometimes feels like there's an ongoing battle between the best and worst sides to my nature. But I always hope my better half wins, and I like to think that, at the moment, it is."

Studying him closely, Lois pursed her lips. She was frankly astonished her bold query had gotten such an honest reply – at least, he'd been far more honest than she was used to from his counterpart. Maybe he really was sincere about trying to tread that line between good and evil and wanting to wind up on the better side of it. If so, she hoped he continued to do so, for everyone's sake.

"You look like you don't know whether or not to believe me," Lex said, with a curious note of bemusement in his voice. "That's okay; this would hardly be the first time someone's wanted me to prove myself."

She felt oddly abashed, which was not an emotion she normally entertained around any member of the Luthor clan. But there were so many things that were different in this world; had she seriously misjudged the man next to her? Perhaps he really was trying to become a different man than he was raised to be; she couldn't imagine how difficult – and how lonely – it would be for him to continually have to overcome the world's preconceived notions about his character.

Guiltily, she bit her lower lip and looked away from him for a moment. Perhaps he did deserve a second chance, but, knowing what she did about the man he _could_ become, she also thought it wouldn't be the a bad idea to find a way to warn him about that very thing. Looking back at him, she met his eyes fearlessly once more as she explained, "It's just…you remind me of this man I used to know. He was, in a lot of ways, very much like you – at least so far as I can tell. He was rich, clever, charming, and, also probably very much like yourself, he had been raised with the notion that he was somehow destined for greatness."

Lex was staring intently at her now, his gaze locked with hers, as if he could tell that the tables had turned and it was now her words that had an underlying meaning. "What happened to him?" he asked as the limo pulled up in front of the Talon and stopped.

Holding his gaze for a moment longer, she replied softly. "He forgot, in his efforts to become a great man, how very much he'd also once wanted to be a _good_ man." Tearing her eyes away from him finally, she noticed with relief that they had arrived at her destination. Before she could put her hand on the latch, Lex's chauffeur opened the door and stood discreetly aside.

"Lois, why is it that I feel there is so much you're not telling me?" Lex demanded a bit abruptly as she moved to step out of the vehicle. "I wonder if you'll ever give me the opportunity to discover your secrets."

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she smiled cryptically at him and replied, "I'm afraid that's not a good idea, for either of our sakes." After a pause, she regarded him a bit sadly. He really didn't seem like such a bad guy, the Lex Luthor of this world. Oh, certainly, he was a man tortured by both angels and demons, but wasn't everyone to some degree? And at least he seemed more inclined to want the better half of his nature to win. However, in meeting this Lex, in realizing that his descent and eventual surrender to the darker side if his nature was perhaps not inevitable, Lois was saddened to realize that it was a battle the man she knew had clearly waged and lost. The Lex Luthor of her world may be said to be evil, but it was clearly possible that he didn't have to be.

There were probably a hundred things she wanted to say to him, but she didn't have the first idea how, so she settled with turning to face him and saying politely, "Thank you for the ride."

"Will I see you again?" he asked – a curious question, to some extent, but perhaps he somehow realized that her departure from Smallville was likely to be both imminent (she hoped) and abrupt, leaving her little time to say goodbye.

"Maybe. If not, it's been…," she paused and chuckled a bit ruefully. "It's been interesting, meeting you. I'm glad I did." To her surprise, she realized that she actually meant her words.

That said, she turned and walked briskly towards the front doors to the Talon. She hadn't forgotten that she was in a hurry, that every moment she spent out in the open put in her danger of having a confrontation for which she still wasn't quite prepared. As soon as she walked through the front door, she returned Chloe's welcoming smile as she strode purposefully up to the table where they'd been seated and murmured, "Before you tell me what you found, come on. I've got the key to the apartment upstairs; we've got to get out of here before the General finds me." At her cousin's surprise, she rushed to say, "I'll explain in a moment."

Gathering up their supplies, Lois and Chloe hurried up the nearby staircase that lead to the apartment above the coffeeshop. As soon as Lois let the both of them inside, however, she looked around and realized how very much she wanted to leave. Immediately. If it wasn't for the fact that she had nowhere else to go quite yet, she would have done so; only desperation kept her where she was. There was just something about seeing the irrefutable evidence of the life her would-be fiancé shared with another woman. Even though she knew the man in the photographs, the man who had left an old pair of boots next to Lana's high heels by the door, the man who had left an old white t-shirt draped over Lana's denim jacket on the back of the sofa, wasn't _her_ Clark, it was still discomfiting to say the least.

It was, in fact, a sad testament to her state of mind at the moment that explaining how and why General Lane might have reason to believe his oldest daughter was alive was, in comparison, easier for Lois to handle. Sitting the both of them down on the sofa, she quickly explained everything that had happened since her sudden flight from the Talon.

About ten minutes passed before she managed to get another word in. "Look, I know! It was a mistake; I didn't know he was going to be there! But I'll deal with it, okay?" she cried, cutting her cousin off mid-tirade. At least something could be said for the fact that Chloe had reacted in pretty much exactly the way Lois had anticipated she would. And though Lois didn't have the first idea how she was going to deal with the new developments in the situation, it was clear that she was probably going to have to do something. "I do honestly know how serious the situation is, but I don't know what to do about it yet, and I still don't know that we have a lot of time. So, for now, could you please just tell me what you found?"

Running her fingers through her hair in agitation, Chloe breathed deeply and let the subject drop. Lois didn't fool herself for a moment into thinking it had been forgotten. "Okay," she said curtly, grabbing the papers Lois had dropped onto the coffee table (on top of one of Lana's novels, a pair of her earrings, and a couple of her hair ties), and unfolding the map.

Leaning forward, Lois stared avidly at the map of Smallville. "Did you figure out where the EMP originated?" she asked eagerly as her eyes scanned various penciled notations.

"Well, yes," Chloe said heavily as she, too, turned her attention on the map. "It's hard to be exact, of course, because there aren't a lot of houses out in that part of town. But as far as I can figure, the pulse originated more or less right here."

Lois bent down to examine the area of the map Chloe indicated with her finger, and her heart plummeted when she recognized the spot. "That's where I showed up," she said in a choked voice as she sagged against the back of the couch, for the moment overcome by a wave of depression. She'd had such hopes, but, once again, she'd hit a dead end. Was she never going to find her way home? Was she doomed to spend the rest of her life _hoping_ that the same cosmic accident that had brought her here would someday see fit to send her back?

Chloe grabbed on to her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. "Don't be discouraged; that actually wasn't what I wanted to show you." Holding her breath, Lois turned a hopeful gaze upon her cousin. "I stared at the map for a while, after I finished putting it all together. There was just something about it that didn't make sense."

Whatever it was that she'd discovered, Chloe was clearly excited about it. Chloe scooted forward on the sofa and elaborated, "Again, I'm far from being an authority on the subject, but I have done some research into EMPs since you showed up. From what I can tell, they behave pretty much just like…oh, say…an explosion. You know how, when a bomb goes off, it behaves in a certain, predictable way? You have the point of origin, and then there's a blast radius that surrounds that point." Lois nodded eagerly. "Well, look…"

Pulling the map closer, Chloe pointed to the same area she's indicated earlier. "We've already decided that this is probably where the EMP originated – which makes sense, since that's where you showed up. But what doesn't make sense is…look at the blast radius." Grabbing a pencil, she sketched a rough circle around the point of origin, indicating the first few houses outside of what would have been, in a sense, the point of impact. "Even allowing for unknown variables and slight differences in their relative distances from the point of origin, the times that these two houses lost power should be roughly the same. That is, the blast radius should have expanded outwards at a fairly consistent rate."

Peering closely at the section of map Chloe indicated, Lois furrowed her brow in confusion. "But they did," she said slowly after a moment, "I don't understand…"

"Right! They did!" Chloe replied eagerly, cutting her off.

Sitting back, Lois looked askance at her cousin. "Okay, so you said that the EMP should have reacted in a certain way, and it did. That's hardly earth-shattering stuff, so do you mind telling me why you…"

"Because that's not all! That's just the area immediately surrounding the blast site, in our analogy. In fact, I'd say it's the area maybe…five miles directly around the site, taking into account that we can't precisely pinpoint where the EMP originated on this map. And, also, that I'm not making an exact measurement, and my circle isn't perfect. Now…look at the area five miles around _that_ area." With the pencil, she sketched another rough circle, and Lois leaned down to study the newly indicated region. "Again, all of these houses should have lost their power at a predictable rate, as the EMP expanded outward from its source."

It took her a minute, but Lois finally figured out what Chloe was trying to show her. "But this house," she said, pointing to one of the notations at the edge of the second circle, "lost power a fraction of a second before these two did." She pointed at two other notations on the other side of the indicated circle, but closer to its center.

"Exactly!" Chloe crowed, looking incredibly self-satisfied.

Lois frowned. "Okay, not to burst your bubble here, Chloe, but it's _one_ house. And it's not even off by _one_ second. I'm not sure that we can really read too much into that one entry. Are you sure we wrote it down correctly, even?"

Nodding, Chloe replied, "I've double-checked each of these entries, yes. And that's not the only one that does not behave as expected. If you keep expanding this circle out to its furthest point…" She paused and drew a few more circles on the map before she continued, "The pattern continues. In fact, it becomes more obvious. Buildings in these areas of the circle all lost power at the predicted rate, but any buildings along this path," she drew a line on the map, "lost power sooner than they should have. _Much_ sooner, in fact, the further we get away from the point of origin. And look! The last three buildings to lose power are _outside_ of the circles! And they're the only ones that far away from where the EMP originated to have done so!"

"So you're saying…the EMP was set off at the point where I showed up in this world, but then it…it somehow _went_ somewhere?" Lois still had no idea what that would mean, if it was true, but at least it indicated that all hope was not yet lost.

"Exactly. Like it was drawn somewhere, in fact, because if you look at these times, it traveled quickly. Crowley Farm, the point the furthest away from the center, lost power only three and a half seconds after the houses closest to the point of origin – and it took at least five for some of these buildings at the other end of the circle to lose power. My guess? If you figure out where the EMP went, you'll find what brought you here."

Lois agreed; in fact, she'd already reached that conclusion and was staring at the line drawn on the map, trying to figure out where it ended. The problem was, it headed to the middle of nowhere. There was absolutely nothing on that side of town that would…

With a gasp, she realized she was wrong. There actually _was_ something on that side of town, and it made perfect sense that it would somehow be tied in with the source of her troubles. The Kawatche Caves lay just beyond the line Chloe had drawn, and inside the caves, she knew there was a secret passage to Clark's Arctic Fortress of Solitude. At least, there was one in her reality, so she supposed there was one in this reality as well.

"Jor-El," she muttered darkly under her breath, finally putting the last few pieces of the puzzle together.


	21. Fortress

When Clark came through the front door to his apartment, he found Chloe sitting on his couch, looking concerned. As for Lois, she was pacing back and forth restlessly, like a wild cat that had been caged. Since that particular analogy lead to a very unpleasant mental image – that of Lois mauling the first person who crossed her path – Clark cleared his throat and reminded himself that he should keep his distance for the time being, just in case.

He saw Chloe turn gratefully toward him at the noise, and she smiled in relief. That didn't bode well. Jumping to her feet, she hurried around the couch to stand by his side, though he suspected it had little to do with a desire to be near him as it was to have a convenient barrier between herself and her cousin, should the need arise. His suspicions were confirmed when she greeted him warmly and deftly took a half step behind him as she said, "I was hoping you'd get here soon. Lois and I think we've discovered something… Actually, I have no idea what we might have discovered, but she seems to think there's something to it." Glancing towards Lois, Clark realized she hadn't missed a beat in her pacing, and he heard Chloe sigh beside him. "She's been doing that ever since, so I guess it's up to me to tell you what you've missed, and then maybe you can tell me why she doesn't seem to be very happy about it."

Quickly, Chloe filled him in on the details of the previous half hour, her voice never rising above the undertone in which she'd greeted him. The entire discussion of EMPs made little sense to him, though he supposed he understood enough to get the basic idea of what she was trying to say. Finally, she finished with, "Does the name Joe Rell mean anything to you? Lois said it, but it doesn't sound familiar to me."

Startled, Clark's gaze shot towards Lois, but she was still engrossed in her restless back and forth movement across the floor. "Jor-El?" he repeated in a voice that was embarrassingly close to a squeak of dismay.

That caught Lois's attention, because she whirled on him. "Yes, Jor-El. And why am I not surprised that it all comes down to him? You know, I'm beginning to think that I have to be the most galactically stupid woman on the planet, not to have realized it sooner. After all the times he's messed with your life, it didn't even occur to me that it was high time he messed with mine!"

Clearly confused, Chloe stepped forward. "I'm sorry. I must have missed something. Who's this Joe person, and why would Lois's coming here have anything to do with him?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Clark ran a hand nervously through his hair. "He's…he's my biological father," he explained awkwardly. "I was adopted. And he…um…"

"Likes trying to tell Clark how to live his life," Lois broke in. "At least, he used to, in my reality. Apparently, he's still doing the 'father knows best' shtick here, which is something I was really happy to think we'd gotten past, if you want to know the truth."

Glowering, Clark snapped, "Do you think I'm happy about it?" Of course, he understood why she was so upset; he wasn't any happier than she was to think his father was behind all this. On the other hand, that didn't give her any cause to look at him as if _he_ was ultimately to blame for his father's actions.

He saw her hackles raise, but Chloe interjected before they could descend into a bout of petty bickering. "Okay…but if your dad was behind all of this – your biological father, I mean – how'd he do it? And how could you be so sure it was him? You even said it yourself, Lois; that EMP goes out into the middle of nowhere. How do you know –?"

"Let's just say I know him, and I know he's capable of doing this sort of thing," Lois said, beginning to sound uncomfortable herself. Obviously, she didn't have any better idea how to explain this situation to a bystander than he did.

"He can blur the line between different realities?" Chloe demanded, sounding highly skeptical. "Oh, come on, you two! I'll grant you that you guys definitely know Clark's dad a lot better than I do, but I think you might be giving him a little too much credit. I mean, just think about the level of technology we're talking about alone, here!"

Clark winced. He had no trouble believing that bringing Lois from her reality to this one was something his father was fully capable of doing. Still, he wasn't quite up to trying to explain the situation to someone who wasn't already aware of his secret. He could just imagine it now. 'Oh, no, really, he has the technology. You see, he's an alien. And so am I, if you want to know the truth. I came here in a spaceship when I was a baby, and now I have this fortress, I guess you could say, in the Arctic. It's a little cold up there, but the fortress was grown from a crystal, so I can't exactly complain about where my dad wanted me to set up house…" Yeah. That would go over really well, he was sure.

Thankfully, Lois took charge of the conversation, removing the necessity of him explaining anything at the moment. "I know it sounds crazy, and maybe you're right and he had nothing to do with this." No matter what she said, Clark didn't believe for a minute that she had any doubts as to his father's culpability. "But I think Clark and I really should go talk to him and make sure, before we discount the possibility entirely."

"Okay," Chloe said slowly, still looking at the two of them as if she thought they were seriously deluding themselves as she stooped to grab her purse. "I'll get the car."

"Ah," Clark interjected, stepping forward to forestall her exit. He threw a desperate look Lois's way, but she was way ahead of him already. As usual, it seemed.

Laying her hand on Chloe's arm, she said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Chloe, but you can't come with us. It's…a little hard to explain…" Chloe opened her mouth to object, but Lois cut her off. "You've been absolutely amazing so far, and I know I couldn't have done this without you. And I wish I could explain, I really do. But…there's just…there are things that are…they're not really easy to explain."

"There are things you can't tell me," Chloe said, sounding hurt.

"It's not that we don't trust you! Where I come from, you're one of the few people we do trust. But it's…there are secrets, and they aren't all mine, but I know they always easy to accept, either. I wish we could tell you everything; believe me. But it's just…it's complicated."

Nodding slowly, Chloe sighed and said, "Okay. If Clark's got a mad scientist in the family, I can see why you wouldn't really want that sort of information to get out." She gave her head a quick shake, as if she was trying more than succeeding at accepting the reason why she was suddenly being shut out. Still, she did manage to sound more or less resigned when she said, "I should probably stay here, anyway. Uncle Sam's probably hitting the roof by now. Someone should probably do something before he calls in the National Guard and has the town put under martial law while he goes door to door, looking for you." She was joking – kind of.

Quickly, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Lois's neck, pulling her in for a tight hug. "Give me a call when you get a chance, and I'll let you know if he's called for a national state of emergency yet. I'll do what I can to calm him down, but…you are going to have to talk to him. You know that, right?"

"We'll deal with my side of the family tree once we're finished with Clark's," Lois hedged, returning the hug. "I'll call you as soon as we get back. Done!" she corrected herself quickly.

Looking both startled and confused, Chloe said her goodbyes and left, while Lois turned a sheepish look on Clark. "Sorry about that. You'd almost think I haven't had years of practice, covering up your secret."

"No, I know you're not used to having to hide all this from her. She really knows about me, the Chloe you know?" he asked, more for the chance to keep the conversation going than out of curiosity as he grabbed a couple of warm coats for them both – they would definitely be needed – and escorted Lois out the door.

With a wry laugh, she answered, "She's known longer than I have, in fact." When she saw his raised eyebrows, she nudged him in the ribs. "I told you, the two of you have been best friends for years."

When they reached Clark's truck, silence fell between them, and they didn't speak at all as they made their way to the caves. Out of the corner of his eye, Clark could see Lois glance anxiously out the window, and he knew she was preoccupied, looking for her father. He wasn't going to be able to do anything to relieve her mind, unfortunately, since he was anxious as well, thinking about what they might find once they reached the Fortress.

Of course, the thought had occurred to him earlier, that Jor-El might have something to do with Lois's sudden appearance in his life. He had, however, discounted the idea. He couldn't think of one good way in which his father had interfered in his life in the past twenty years; it seemed unlikely that Jor-El would have been benevolent enough to have brought Lois to him. Besides, Clark hadn't heard from Jor-El in a very long time, not since giving up his abilities, and he couldn't imagine why his father would be choosing to contact him now. No, maybe it was wishful thinking, but he really didn't want to believe that Jor-El had anything to do with this.

Plus, if his father was really behind it all, Clark knew Lois was going to be _livid_. Call him a coward, but he really didn't know if he was up to withstanding her ire if she thought he was even peripherally to blame for the fact she had been separated from her fiancé.

It was only after he finally pulled up in front of the caves and killed the engine that Lois turned to face him and met his eyes. "You okay with this?" she asked, surprising him with the question. "It's just that I suspect that you've never really come to terms with the relationship you have with your father, and I don't want to make you confront him if you don't think you're ready to do so."

"You would actually agree to walk away from this?" he asked skeptically.

On a laugh, she replied with a wink, "No. I'd just agree to go without you."

Chuckling – if a bit nervously – Clark shook his head and opened his door. "Thanks, but I think I can handle it." Then he stepped out of the cab and walked around the front of the truck to take Lois by the arm, walking with her into the entrance of the caves. They moved slowly, both out of trepidation for what was about to happen (on his part) and caution due to the rocky terrain (on hers). He could have told her that he had taken this route many times and was confident of his ability to keep from falling and injuring himself, but he secretly liked the realization that she was thinking of him. Plus, any chance to forestall the inevitable confrontation between Lois and Jor-El was a good thing, in Clark's mind.

As they walked into the empty chamber, Lois took his hand and smiled reassuringly at him, and once again, he was amazed by the woman at his side. He knew there had to be so many things running through her mind right now, but, even so, she had still stopped long enough to worry about him, to be concerned over how _he_ might handle the inevitable upcoming confrontation.

She was remarkable, and somewhere there existed a Clark Kent who was a very lucky man.

Shrugging on their coats, they stepped up to the large stone slab in the middle of the cave's hidden chamber. Clark grabbed her hand and took a fortifying breath. He almost asked if she was certain she wanted to do this, but he knew what the answer would be. So, without another word, he pulled the medal disc out of his pocket and slipped it into place.

Bright light surrounded them, and then an icy wind so sharp it cut into his bones and took his breath away. Huddling into the warmth of his coat, he kept hold of the hand still tucked in his and glanced over at Lois to make sure she was okay. Her reaction, however, was one he had not expected. "You know, I always seem to forget how beautiful this place is," she breathed in awe as she stared at the crystalline structure in front of them.

"Come on," he urged, pulling her towards the entrance. It was awkward, slogging his bad leg through the almost knee-high snow, but he gritted his teeth and tried to hide his discomfort. In an odd way, though she had been nothing but understanding of his condition, the very compassion she exhibited towards him made him less comfortable with the thought of letting her see his weakness.

Whether or not he managed to fool her, she didn't comment on the difficult time he was having as they made their way inside. Once there, however, she disentangled her hand from his and stepped forward, gazing around at the darkened interior of the structure in disappointment. "I don't understand," she murmured, turning to him, and he winced. He had forgotten that she had no way of knowing that the Fortress had gone quiet, a long time ago.

Stepping forward he reached for her, feeling as if he owed her an apology for having wasted her time. Perhaps his father was the cause for all her troubles, somehow – even with a dead Fortress, Clark never discounted Jor-El's abilities, and heaven knew he had sufficient cause. But it was clear that, even if Jor-El had managed to pull Lois out of her reality, it was unlikely that she would find answers she searched for within this silent monument to a planet and a people long-dead.

However, just when his fingertips brushed against the fabric of her coat, the eerie silence inside the Fortress was broken, and he startled at the sudden sound. "Good evening, Miss Lane." The voice, at once oddly comforting and strangely disconcerting, disembodied as it was, washed over the two of them. "I had hoped I would be given the chance to speak with you."

"Jor-El," she spat, her eyes flashing furiously as she strode forward, moving even further out of Clark's reach. "You couldn't possibly think I would have missed my chance at this reunion – particularly not since you clearly took the trouble to bring me here. So, do you want to do me the favor of letting me know just what the hell it is I'm doing here, anyway?"

"I would have thought you would have discovered your purpose in this reality by now, Miss Lane."

"That's Lois. Or Mrs. Lane-Kent, soon enough. You are aware that I'm supposed to marry your _son_ in just a couple of days, right?" As she spoke, Lois crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head in that particular way that Clark was beginning to realize heralded an imminent explosion. She was about to lose her temper, which would probably not be the best idea. In an attempt to forestall the inevitable, he walked up behind her and put his hand on her arm, but she shook him off and stepped forward.

Clark didn't know if it was the tone or merely its disembodied nature that made it seem cold and impersonal as it replied, "The Kal-El of your reality is no concern of mine."

Beside him, Lois spluttered, "You…! You know, it's been so long since you thought it necessary to try to tell Clark how to live his life, I almost forgot what an arrogant ass you could be!" Clark jerked at the words and sucked in a shocked breath through tightly gritted teeth; he couldn't believe she'd had the audacity to say such a thing. Rolling her eyes, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at him and demanded, "What, do you think he's going to zap me right where I stand for talking back to him? I'd like to see him try!"

"Well, but…" Clark began helplessly, but Lois turned back to the empty room before he could formulate a more coherent protest.

As if their words were of little concern to him, Jor-El continued, "Miss Lane, whether or not you choose to accept it, your actions over the last few days serve a purpose. You must help my son embrace the destiny he once rejected."

Clenching her fists and dropping her hands to her sides, she braced her weight and yelled defiantly into the empty air, "No, I don't have to help anyone do anything! You think this world needs a Superman, but what it really needs is someone who _wants_ to be Superman, who knows that being a hero is difficult and chooses to do it anyway! How is it that you've never understood that crucial distinction? _He_ has to decide which path he wants to follow, and whatever you _think_ his destiny should be, you have to let him choose for himself!"

He was also standing right behind her and beginning to feel a little insulted at being discussed as if he wasn't present.

Regardless of Clark's opinions on the matter, Lois's words didn't seem to be having any effect upon his father. "You must realize that your destiny is inextricably linked with Kal-El's. You know the path he must take; you can help him find his way."

"You don't understand! That's not what I do! I never _made_ him put on the tights and cape; I just tried to be there for him when he needed the strength to keep on doing it! And you can talk as much as you want about how I'm supposed to help Clark find his _destiny_ ," her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she said this last word, "but it's all crap, and you know it! She's _dead_ , the Lois of this world! Whatever it is you think she was destined for, she died on a mountaintop very far away from here! In my mind, that pretty much negates the argument that she was destined for anything!"

"Miss Lane's death was unfortunate," Jor-El replied calmly. "It was never supposed to happen."

"I'll be sure to pass on your condolences to my father," she snapped.

Ignoring her, he continued, "But that changes nothing. It was her destiny to stand beside my son as he embarked upon his journey, just as it was his to stand as the world's protector. That these things were meant to happen is irrefutable. However, on occasion, our choices or actions intervene and change the course of destiny. Her destiny changed when she died; his changed when he chose to embrace his mortality. The universe adapted to these changes, but, since your arrival in this world, it has been trying to restore the balance."

"Well, that certainly helps explain why the universe seems to be ganging up on me all at once. It really is. And why doesn't that make me feel any better?" Clark heard her mutter under her breath as she raised a hand and rubbed the back of her neck in frustration. Then, in a dark undertone that Clark imagined would send most people running from cover, she growled, "So you're saying that I can't get home unless I turn Clark into Superman?"

A telling silence followed this remark, and Lois whirled on her heel to give Clark an assessing look. He watched a series of emotions play across her face before her shoulders slumped in defeat. Shaking her head slowly, she offered him an apologetic smile, but he couldn't understand why. "I'm sorry; I can't ask you to do that."

"Look…maybe I could do it," Clark offered, though he knew he sounded dubious at the prospect. "Maybe I could be Superman."

She shook her head. "No. I'm not going to make you into something you don't want to be." Tilting her head back, she yelled, "Do you hear me? I'm not going to do what you want me to do!"

"Then I am afraid, Miss Lane, that there is little chance you will be returned home until you change your mind."

Lois whirled around so quickly, she almost lost her balance. "You send me back!" she screamed, her voice breaking as her words echoed throughout the icy chamber. "You brought me here, you SEND ME BACK! I have done everything I can – or am willing – to do; I've shown him that he has a choice at a different life! I'm not going to hold his hand while he decides! So I've been a good little girl, and I've done my job. Now you send me back where I belong!"

A long silence followed her remark. Finally, Jor-El spoke once more. "Miss Lane, I am afraid you do not quite understand. I have been merely attempting to explain your purpose here. However, I did not bring you to this world, nor do I have it in my power to return you to the one in which you belong."

Growling deep in her throat, Lois demanded sarcastically, "Oh, yeah? Then who does? If you didn't bring me here, who did?"

"My son."

Clark's eyes grew wide with shock, and he turned helplessly to Lois just as she whirled on him. He could tell she wasn't in the most helpful of moods, however, as she demanded, "What?"


	22. Interlude III: Haunted

**Day Four**

When the shrill peal of the alarm cut through the still morning air, Clark sighed, rolled over, and smacked the clock into silence. Another long night, spent staring at the patterns on the ceiling. Another long night, spent alone.

He couldn't help it; even though he knew what he'd find, he looked over at Lois's side of the bed anyway. As expected, it was empty, but it didn't take much imagination for him to picture her there. The Lois of memory blinked sleepily, cuddled closer to him, and rested a hand against his chest, silently pleading for ten more minutes of sleep.

"Time to get up, beautiful," he murmured, as he had on so many mornings before. Then, with another sad sigh, he sat up and ran one hand gently across her cold pillow. He had to get ready for work.

It was amazing, the way time had slowed since Lois's disappearance. His morning shower alone seemed interminable. He stood under the spray, one hand resting against the tile wall, long after the water had gone cold. Lois would have throttled him for using all the hot water, he reflected as he turned off the tap, but even that thought wasn't much motivation. He just couldn't seem to find the energy to do anything, and he found even less cause to care.

Then came time to dress, which Clark did on autopilot. He hardly realized he'd even managed to do so until he slung his tie around his neck, and then he stopped short. _"Need my help?"_ he heard Lois whisper, and the memory of her beside him was so strong, he almost turned to reply. _"You never have been very good at tying these things. How would you get by without me?"_ she continued, heedless of his distraction.

"Maybe I'm just letting you think you're helping. Give you something to do; keeps you out of trouble," he murmured as he finished the knot himself, for once. While he was perfectly capable of dealing with his own tie – and had for years before he and Lois started dating – that he couldn't was a charade the two of them had tacitly agreed to indulge. Perhaps it was silly, but it was one of his favorite parts of the morning, those last few quiet moments they spent together before they started their day.

Closing his eyes, he pictured her face as it had looked the last time he'd seen her. The two of them had gotten up early to help prepare for the party, and Lois had pulled her hair up in a haphazard ponytail, from which little strands escaped to frame her face. Before she'd left to take care of those damned last-minute errands, he'd stood behind her and wrapped her in his arms, kissing the curve of her neck as they watched the sunrise out his bedroom window. If he'd known it was going to be the last time he might ever be able to hold her that way, he never would have let her go.

At the thought, Clark took a deep ragged breath, and perhaps it was just his imagination that had him thinking he could smell her perfume. _"You planning on standing there all day, Smallville? Because if you aren't going to go to work anyway, I say we go back to bed,"_ he heard Lois's voice again, so clear and teasing in his memory that it brought yet another sad smile to his face.

"Where are you, Lois? Where did you go?" he asked, for once breaking away from the usual script as he opened his eyes once more. For one second, the image of her that he'd brought to mind was so clear, he could almost fool himself into believing that all he had to do was reach forward, and her hand would be in his. Then the picture faded and he was left alone once more.

His shoulders slumping, Clark shoved his hands in his pockets and headed out the door. Perhaps it was too soon to get back to work, but he simply couldn't handle the thought of spending another day with nothing but his thoughts for company. It had been four days, and still, there was no word of Lois – not from the police, not from fellow superheroes, and certainly not from his own patrols. It wasn't just that she was missing; she was _gone_ , leaving behind absolutely no evidence as to what had happened to her. And though Clark tried to sustain hope that she would eventually return, with every hour that passed and every futile search, he felt as if she was slipping away from him more and more.

Still, if his morning shower took forever, his trip to work was even worse. If he'd thought there was solace to be found once he arrived at the _Planet_ , he was wrong. As soon as he walked off the elevator and into the bullpen, the room went quieter than he'd ever heard it go before. Then soft whispers began to spring up as he made his way to his desk, and he could feel every eye in the place following his every movement. He knew that, though everyone was watching him, they were thinking about the woman who conspicuously absent – Lois, who was usually right by his side.

Sitting down at his desk, Clark breathed a sigh of relief. He'd survived the worst of it, or so he thought. Then, out of habit, he turned to look at her desk, and what he saw there brought him to his feet in fury. "Who did that?" he demanded as he stared accusingly at her desk. "Who moved her things?" All the nights he'd sat with Lois as they worked together on a story, all the days they'd sat side-by-side and bounced ideas off each other; Lois's desk was as familiar to him as his own. But at a glance, Clark could see that the desk was not as Lois had left it; it was neater, for one thing. The very idea that somebody had possessed the audacity to touch her things was more than he could bear.

"It…we were just looking for Dr. Klein's number," someone said from Clark's left, but he was entirely too incensed to be so easily placated.

His gaze swept through the room as he glared at each person in turn and bellowed, "Nobody touches her desk, do you understand? Because she's coming back! She's coming _back_ , and when she does, I want her to find everything exactly where it was!"

"Clark…My office. Now." Perry's voice broke through what looked promisingly like the beginnings of a tirade.

When he caught sight of Perry's face, Clark heard Lois's voice in his ear again. _"Uh oh! Looks like the Chief's on the warpath again. Tell you what, handsome. You go on in, and in five minutes, I'll provide some sort of distraction. I don't know; maybe I'll set the bullpen on fire."_ This time, her voice wasn't a comfort; on the contrary, it only served to fuel his indignation. For years, he'd thought of Perry as a good friend, but he'd clearly been wrong. If the editor was so eager to write Lois off after only a couple of days, he was nothing but a traitor.

Stormed into Perry's office, Clark barely waited for the door to shut behind him before launching into his diatribe. "You're not going to replace her, Chief! I don't care if we're low on space, and I don't care if you need that desk for another reporter! I'll give up my desk if necessary, but her stuff stays where it is! You're not going to box it up and write her off like she meant nothing more to this place than…"

"Clark, I have no intention of replacing Lois. We were simply doing some fact checking for the story that ran in this morning's edition, and I knew she had the lab's contact information somewhere in her desk. I told Jimmy to get it, and he did so. That's it. The rest of her stuff stays where it is." Perry spoke with conviction; his firm tone leaving absolutely no doubt that he spoke the truth.

He managed to retain his hold on his righteous indignation for a second longer, but then it all drained away. Deflated, Clark's shoulders sagged, and he collapsed into a chair across from Perry's desk. "Sorry," he mumbled, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between them. "I-I didn't mean to say… I know she means more to you than that."

Coming around the desk, Perry rested his weight against the edge and leaned forward to lay one hand on Clark's shoulder. "Son, it's okay; I know how hard this must be for you. And you don't have to do this yet, you know. You could take a few more days to…What I mean to say is that it'll take time to –"

"How long?" The question tore from Clark's chest, but his eye didn't stray from the name placard on the editor's desk. "How long until I can wake up in the morning and think of something other than her? How long until I can walk to work and not look for her around every corner? How long before I can stop thinking about how perfect my life was with her in it or how happy I used to be? How do I just forget something like that?"

"Son, I –" Perry began, but whatever he saw in Clark's face when the younger man looked up and met his eyes stopped him.

"No! Tell me! Tell me how I do it, Chief, because I can't even begin to imagine how I'm supposed to get through the rest of the _day_ without her – let alone the rest of my life! Everywhere I go, there's something that reminds me of her; every time I walk through my front door, I can't keep from hoping that _this_ time, I'll find her there! So tell me how I'm supposed to get past this; tell me how I'm supposed to get on with my life! When's it going to stop hurting so much? When does it stop torturing me, that I have no idea where she is or what happened to her? When do I get to stop feeling guilty for not having been there –" His tirade ended as he choked with emotion.

Cradling his head in his hands, Clark squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. When he eventually pulled his hands away, there was moisture on his cheeks, and he swallowed a couple times before looking up and meeting Perry's eyes again. "Thanks for the offer, Chief, but this is as good as it gets. If I never get her back, this is what I have to look forward to – her voice in my ear, her shadow around every corner, her memory haunting me every moment of the day for the rest of my life."


	23. Wishes

"What?" Lois heard Clark echo weakly, but she didn't have to patience to deal with his attempt at injured ignorance. What the hell did Jor-El mean, the answers lay with him? One thing was for sure: if Clark knew more than he was telling, he wasn't going to make it out of the Fortress in one piece unless he decided to start being more forthcoming.

"What did he mean, you brought me here, Clark?" she demanded in a dark tone as she stormed toward him, her fists clenched at her sides.

Looking at her in alarm, Clark raised his palms towards her in a placating gesture. "Lois, you have to believe me; I have no idea what he's talking about," he said desperately. "I didn't do anything!"

"It was your sincere desire to know about the life you would have lead, had you not embraced your mortality, that brought her to this world," Jor-El interjected, not helping the situation one bit.

"But I…I was just wondering!" he cried. "It was just a stupid thing I sometimes wondered about when I was…holding a crystal…from the Fortress." The sentence was drawn out as though realization had begun to set in somewhere in the middle of it, and a pained expression spread across his face. Setting his jaw, he shot the Fortress a mutinous glare. "But that's ridiculous! That couldn't possibly have been what brought her here!"

Closing her eyes, Lois took three deep, calming breaths in an attempt to maintain a hold of her temper. Okay, so he probably was telling the truth when he said he didn't know his idle thoughts would have any effect – though, really, if he'd ever had any contact with the Fortress of Solitude in the past, he should have known better. After all, its entire purpose was to provide anything he might need to fulfill his so-called "destiny". Apparently, it didn't consider _her_ out of bounds.

But, still, maybe it would be unfair to blame him for what he had done in his ignorance. She had to look on the bright side; at least they finally had an idea of what had brought her to this reality – no matter how absurd it sounded or whether or not Clark wanted to admit his own culpability in the entire fiasco. For the first time since she'd arrived, Lois felt as if she actually had a decent shot at returning where she belonged.

"Okay, so…if you brought me here by essentially making a wish on a Kryptonian crystal…and I can't _believe_ I just said that any more than you clearly want to believe you did it… you can send me home," she said firmly. "So do it," she demanded. "Send me home."

"I-I don't really know…" Clark protested, but she wasn't having any more of his indecisiveness.

Shaking her head, she said firmly, "Clark. That wasn't a request. You brought me to this world; you can send me back. I'm done playing games here, and I've had just about enough of this little experiment to see if the grass really is greener on the other side of the fence. Maybe you're telling the truth when you say you didn't mean to bring me here, but I've really stopped giving a damn either way. The bottom line is, you apparently _did_ do it, and that means you can undo it – and you're going to, whether you like it or not. I'm done playing the starring role in your little "what if" scenario; I have a life to get back to!"

Looking injured, Clark threw her a hopeless look. "Lois, I…It isn't that I don't want to send you home; I honestly don't know how to do it!"

Huffing in irritation, Lois stormed over to the nearby crystal repository and grabbed the largest one she found. Thrusting it in Clark's direction, she demanded, "Make a wish."

"You can't be serious," he replied, giving the crystal in her hand an askance look. "You want me to wish on that?"

"I don't care if you have to make a wish on a pair of bunny slippers while hopping up and down on one foot under a full moon with a lampshade on your head! I want you to send me home!" she cried emphatically, thrusting the crystal into his hands.

To his credit, Clark must have realized there was no point in arguing, because he stopped trying to persuade her that her suggestion was ridiculous. After giving the object in his hands a dubious look, he sighed and said, "I wish Lois was back where she belonged."

Perhaps it was silly of Lois to have thought the answer would be that simple, but she was still disappointed when nothing happened. She waited about a minute, just to make sure, but there was no bright flash of light or any other evidence that a sudden teleportation was about to occur. She was still freezing her ass off in an Arctic fortress, in a world in which she didn't belong, and to add insult to injury, Clark didn't manage to entirely hide his relief to still find her there.

That was it. She was afraid that she was going to have to kill him.

"Do it again," she demanded through teeth she had clenched only slightly tighter than the hold she had on her temper.

"Lois, I…" he began, clearly not understanding how close she was to losing it entirely.

"I said, do it again!" she yelled, her voice ricocheting off the crystalline structure surrounding them.

With a sigh, Clark capitulated. He even closed his eyes, and Lois followed suit. Maybe the entire process was the trans-dimensional equivalent to watching the proverbial pot boil – it would never happen if someone was watching. "I wish Lois was back in her own world," he murmured softly.

She may not have been terribly surprised when she opened her eyes to find nothing had changed, but that didn't mean she wasn't heartbreakingly disappointed. Whirling around, she bellowed into the empty air, "What the hell kind of game is this, Jor-El?"

Again, that eerie disembodied voice washed over them. In its usual unflustered tone, it replied, "As I said before, I am afraid it is unlikely you will be sent back to your own world before you have helped my son embrace his destiny."

"Yeah, right!" she spat. "You say that I'll be sent back when Clark becomes Superman, but I don't believe that for a second! You also said we were destined to be together! What's to say that, even if I helped him become Superman, the universe wouldn't decide there's more for me to do? What's to say that I'd ever be sent back?"

"Of course, there is no guarantee you will be returned to your own world," Jor-El replied, sounding supremely unconcerned about the possibility.

Frowning, Lois cried, "Well, I'm not going to pin my hopes on mere chance! If Clark brought me here, he can send me home! So why isn't it working?"

"My son may not have understood the repercussions of his actions, but the desire that brought you here was sincere." Lois didn't need a Pompous-Kryptonian-to-English dictionary to fill in the blanks of what Jor-El hadn't expressly stated: the wish Clark had originally made may have had unintentional consequences, but it had been sincere; his most recent attempts at duplicating the process had been anything but.

Her eyes narrowing, Lois glared fiercely at Clark. "So you're saying I can't go home because Clark doesn't want me to go," she growled darkly. When she saw him wince and look faintly apologetic, she crossed her arms over her chest once more and demanded, "Well, what's the problem?"

"Look…Lois…I'm sorry. It's just that I'm going to miss you when you're gone!" he rushed to explain.

Her eyes flashing, she barked, "Get over it!" Normally, she'd do her best to be understanding, but she was really not in the mood.

In return, Clark snapped, "Great, Lois; that's really helpful! You do realize that you can't just make yourself want something you don't actually want, don't you? I know you need to get home, and it isn't that I want to trap you here. But just because I know you have to go doesn't mean I can necessarily make myself be happy about it! Be honest, would _you_ find it so easy to do?"

Lois groaned and rubbed her forehead, which was beginning to throb as if an entire brass band had set up camp behind her eyes. "Okay," she moaned. "So it's not easy, and maybe I _wouldn't_ be able to it. But you _have_ to! I know you'll miss me, but you _do_ know that it doesn't change anything, right?"

Thrusting his hands into his pockets nervously, Clark's irritation drained, and he stammered, "I-I know, but _that_ doesn't change anything either. And what if…what if you're wrong and this is never going to work?" At her murderous glare, he took a hasty step back and blurted, "It's just that you're putting a lot of faith in Jor-El, and I'm not sure that's really a good idea! What if he isn't telling the truth?"

"Jor-El may be an overbearing jerk sometimes," she conceded, "but he's never outright lied to me about anything. If he says this is what brought me here, then I'm going to believe him."

"He also said the only way to go home is to turn me into Superman," Clark reminded her.

"Yeah, well…that's just not going to happen! I meant it when I said I have no intention of turning anybody into something they don't want to be." Though she had to admit – if only to herself – that, no matter her convictions, there was still part of her that was tempted to do just that, in the hope that she would be sent home thereafter. However, she didn't have to confess as much to him. "And even if you _did_ decide you wanted your powers back, it still wouldn't be enough! You don't just wake up one day and decide to become someone like Superman; it's a journey you have to take. And I don't have the time – or, frankly, the patience – to go down that road again!"

"But what if that's the only way? What if there isn't any other way to send you home?" Swallowing heavily, he asked, a little sadly, "Do you really find this world so terrible?"

Her hands dropping to her sides, Lois sighed in defeat, for the first time actually considering the rest of her life, should she never manage to get home. "No. No, this world isn't so terrible." He looked so hopeful at these words, she didn't know whether to scream or to cry. She wanted to go; he wanted her to stay. Whatever happened, how could something that would make one them so happy make the other so miserable?

It was well past time she stopped ignoring the elephant in the corner. With a deep breath, she asked heavily, "But that's not really what you're wanting to know, is it? You're wondering, if I do stay here, if I would ever fall in love with you." Clark made a strangled choking sound, and in the face of his obvious surprise, she explained, "In some ways, you really are so very much like _him_ ," there could be no doubt as to her reference, "and he's terrible at keeping secrets from me."

After a pregnant pause, Clark breathed out a sigh and shrugged awkwardly. "Yes, I've wondered," he replied, looking shame-faced as he watched her out of the corner of his eye.

Of course she'd known that was the case, but having him admit as much out loud was just about too much for her to bear. Before she could stop to think about her actions, she threw herself at him with a force that almost took him off his feet, and the two of them staggered backwards. Twisting, he clutched her tightly around the waist and pulled her close, minimizing the impact of the punches she landed against his chest and stomach. When one fist clipped his jaw, she heard him grunt in pain. Shortly thereafter, his left leg buckled, but still he didn't let her go, even when keeping hold of her almost caused him to lose balance. "Who the hell do you think you are?" she screamed, struggling against his hold as she stomped heavily on his right instep. While it still didn't persuade him to release her, he did feel a certain measure of satisfaction over the grunt he produced in response.

They struggled together a few moments before Lois managed to break away, breathing heavily. Her arms tightly clutched around her waist, she took a few steps back and threw him a fierce glare. It took a couple of minutes to regain a tenuous hold on her temper – at least to the point that she was no longer launching a full-scale assault, but once she had, she snapped, "Do you think that's the way it works? That I'll just fall in love with you because I've lost him? Because I'm alone now? Because you just happen to look a lot like the man I love? Do you really think it works that way?"

Breathing heavily from his exertions, Clark turned to face her and replied, "It isn't that! Of course I understand…"

"You don't understand a damn thing!" she cried. "Not if you really think I could just forget about him! You think you're the same guy, just because you have the same name? I don't care that you look like him, sound like him…you're nothing like him! _Nothing!_ "

Frowning, Clark tried one more time to explain. "I never said I was!" he cried, sounding wounded. "And I don't want you to fall in love with me because I remind you of him! I've just wondered… Look, I'm not _expecting_ you to fall in love with me at all! I'm not _trying_ to keep you here; it's just that I…"

Lois wasn't in the mood to listen. In fact, if she had something in her hands right now, she'd probably throw it at him. "I thought I made it clear that I fell in love with the man he is, not what he looks like! The man I fell in love with isn't afraid to stand for something, and he doesn't run away and hide when things don't go well! And you think I'll just forget about him and fall in love with you…why? Because you have the same eyes, so you'll make an acceptable stand-in?"

His eyes flashing, Clark replied, "I don't want to take his place! If you would just _listen_ to me!"

With her fists clenched at her sides, she glared at him. Through trembling lips, she spat, "No! I'm _done_ listening to you! You know what, Clark? You're nothing but a coward! You ran away from who you were because it was the easy thing to do, and you've never stopped running since. Not once! You really think I'm going to look at you and forget about him? You're not even in the same _league_ as him!"

Straightening, Clark glowered down at her. "Lois. You have to listen to me. I'm not asking you to fall in love with me. I'm not asking you to stay here with me! I _want_ you to be happy; I want you to go home, and I'll do everything I can to help you get there! But you asked if I wondered if you'd ever fall in love with me, and I told you the truth; of _course_ I've wondered what would have happened if…if things had been different! Of _course_ I've wondered if there was ever any chance you would have ever loved me! Though I suppose, considering what you clearly think of me, I have my answer."

"How could I ever fall in love with you, Clark, when I _hate_ you for bringing me here?" she demanded fiercely.

A long silence fell once the echo of her words had subsided. Everything was still; it was as if the air itself was waiting to see what would happen next. Obviously wounded, Clark looked away from her, his head bowing dejectedly. Lois had enough presence of mind to know she'd gone too far; she was ashamed of her behavior. That she had so intentionally wounded him made her feel slightly queasy, and she told herself that she should do something. She should apologize.

She didn't say a word.

Stooping, Clark picked up the crystal he'd dropped while they struggled. He stared at it in silence for a long moment and then, without even glancing her way, he clenched it tight in his fist and murmured, "I wish I'd never met you, Lois Lane."

She was rather surprised it didn't work. He'd sounded so earnest, she had almost expected to find that she'd been transported away. Then again, it appeared she'd been wrong in her earlier assessment of the situation. If simple wishes could send her back, this last one no doubt would have done so.

She honestly couldn't believe it was possible to hurt as much as she did at that particular realization. Maybe Jor-El was right; maybe she'd never get home unless she did as she'd been bidden. Maybe she was going to have to convince Clark to become Superman…but then again, after everything she'd told him the night before, if he _still_ didn't understand what it meant to be Superman, she doubted she'd ever manage to explain it to him.

It was an impossible task. And still, even if she _did_ manage to show him the person he was capable of being if he'd only stop being so afraid, she didn't think it would do her any good. She had no doubt that she would still find herself stuck in this other world, the Lois Lane standing behind the pale shadow of a Superman she'd once known.

Turning away from the evidence of her failure, Lois realized it was time that she admitted something that had probably been inevitable from the moment she'd seen that white light wash over the horizon, only a few days before. She was never going to get home.

She had very little recollection of how she got back to the Kent Farmhouse after that. She vaguely recalled asking Jor-El to send her back, and she had a faint memory of staggering towards the exit. Everything after that was hazy.

It was with some surprise, therefore, that she found herself on the Kent's doorstep, but not even that could pull her out of her daze. That old familiar numbness was back. Moving sluggishly, she let herself into the house and trudged towards the stairs to the upper story.

"Lois, honey, is everything all right?" she heard Martha ask, and it seemed like it would take more energy than she had in her entire being to reply. She threw a stricken look over her shoulder, but she didn't stop moving for fear that, once she stopped, she wouldn't be able to start again.

Lois really wasn't the type to give up, even when the odds seemed stacked against her. She'd been known to continue pursuing stories long after everyone else would have given up. Even the not-infrequent threats made against her life in the course of her job only made her more determined to keep digging, much to the exasperation of her friends and family.

Right now, however, she honestly didn't know how to keep going. She had never been so despondent, but, then again, she'd never found so little reason to hope before, either. Though Lois knew she had to keep trying, there didn't seem to be a point. She doubted she'd ever find a way to get home, even if she fulfilled her so-called "purpose" in this reality. She couldn't quite understand why she felt the way she did, but she somehow _knew_ that, no matter what Jor-El had said, she wouldn't be sent home, even if she did succeed at the Herculean task of turning this world's Clark into Superman.

Walking into his old bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed and stared morosely around. Perhaps it was just because she was so depressed, but it seemed like everything she'd done since arriving in this reality had backfired; she hadn't really helped anyone do anything – not even herself. All she'd done was get everyone's hopes up, so she'd hurt them all when she went home. But, of course, she _wasn't_ going home, was she? Not ever.

Still, even as she thought that, she felt that strange numbness, like she couldn't quite process the enormity of it all. It was almost too much to take in; when she tried to get used to the idea that she'd never get home, her brain couldn't quite comprehend it. It was all just too much. When she tried to come to terms with the fact that she'd never see her Clark again, her brain couldn't wrap itself around the idea, so she decided to start with something smaller.

She'd never again see him push his glasses up his nose in that nervous gesture she'd come to love so much. She'd never again tease him about the bedraggled state of his clothing when he came back from playing superhero; she'd never again hear those lame excuses he always found to explain his sudden disappearances. She'd never again see that mischievous glint is his eye when he flirted with her, and she'd never see that _look_ he always had on his face when he was looking at her. Even if she spent every day with this Clark, she'd never again see her past in his eyes. All the years they spent together, all those memories they shared. All of them were gone.

Her throat felt thick and her eyes had begun to itch. Moving very slowly, as if she was afraid she'd shatter into a million pieces if she wasn't careful, she leaned down and snagged the edge of her bag, pulling it closer. Digging through it, she finally found what she'd been searching for, and she pulled it out of the bottom of the bag.

It was an old, ratty, faded flannel shirt she'd confiscated from Clark years before. She thought about all the times she'd teased him about it before the two of them began dating, and she remembered the day she'd snuck it out of his closet by stuffing it in her emergency kit and disavowing any knowledge of what he was talking about when he asked her if she knew where it was. At the time, she'd justified her actions by swearing to herself that she was only taking it so she could give it the Viking funeral it well and truly deserved. After a few months had passed and the shirt remained at the bottom of her bag, however, she finally had to come to terms with her _real_ motives. It was just simple fact that any emergency kit she put together _had_ to contain a bit of Clark in it. As for Clark, if he ever stumbled across her clandestine act, he never said a word.

Gazing down at the object in her hands, Lois saw the spots of moisture that dotted the faded blue fabric. Lifting a hand to her face, she felt the tears that had begun to trail down her cheeks. A searing pain stabbed her chest, so intense it took her breath away, like a knife slipped between her ribs. A sob welled up in her throat, the force of it too much to contain, and she pressed the shirt in her hands to her face to try to hold it back.

Her effort backfired when the act brought the memory of the man she loved – his voice, his scent, the way he looked first thing in the morning and the way he sounded when he told her he loved her – more clearly to mind. From the moment she arrived in this world, she'd been ruthless about not letting herself cry at the thought of what she was missing. She almost _never_ cried, and she'd thought that to do so now would be tantamount to admitting that her wish of returning to that man would never come true.

But now, Lois gave in to the emotion that was too much for her to contain. Burying her face in the folds of his shirt, she squeezed her eyes shut and let herself remember every nuance of the man she loved so much. With no other ideas, and no way to get home, she did the only thing she could to do anymore. She sobbed.


	24. Heroes

Though Clark stayed at the Fortress for some time after Lois had left, he was unable to get any further information out of Jor-El. It was in weary resignation that he finally gave up the attempt. Besides, while he didn't know how long he'd been in the Arctic, it had been time enough for his leg to grow stiff from the cold.

It was dark when he got back to Smallville, and a glance at the clock on the dashboard of his truck revealed it to be a little past midnight. He wondered what Lois was doing, but a twisting in his stomach lead him to suspect he already knew. He'd seen her face right before she'd left him at the Fortress, and he didn't think he'd ever seen anyone who looked so shattered. Pushing the image from his mind, he started the truck and headed back into town.

He sighed as he pulled up in front of the Talon and looked up at the darkened windows to the apartment above. Though he fingered the ignition key, he just couldn't quite bring himself to give it a turn; he just wasn't in the mood to go upstairs to sleep on the couch Lana had no doubt already prepared for him.

Still, it wasn't like he faced a lot of other options. He couldn't spend the night at the farm, not with Lois there. Even if there was extra space (which there wasn't), the entire household was no doubt still awake, and he wasn't prepared to deal with Lois's sorrow any more than the well-deserved condemnation coming from his parents. Clark was well aware that this entire situation was of his own doing; he just didn't know what to do about it yet.

Shaking his head, he put the truck into gear and pulled out of his parking space. No, he couldn't go to the farm, but he couldn't go upstairs to Lana, either. There was really only one other option; he was going to have to hope that Lex's offer of an open door still extended to late-night visits. Considering the number of times Clark had taken his friend up on the offer in recent weeks, he figured Lex must at least suspect that there were problems in Lana and Clark's relationship. However, in true best friend fashion, it seemed he wasn't going to press for any information that Clark wasn't willing to divulge.

When Clark pulled up in front of the huge gates leading to the Luthor Mansion, the security guard spared his truck barely a glance before admitting him. Clearly, he was expected. Before he hopped out of the cab and headed inside, however, he reached into the dash and grabbed a prescription bottle he'd hidden there. He hated taking these pain pills, and so he refused to do so whenever he could avoid it. When he couldn't, he still tried not to take them in front of other people. However, the combination of strenuous exercise and cold weather had produced a dull ache in his leg that simply wouldn't go away.

Hoping the pills would kick in quickly, Clark made his way slowly to the door, which was opened for him before he'd even made his way up the walk. With a nod and smile in the security guard's direction, Clark walked toward Lex's study. As he approached, he saw that the door was cracked, and a light was shining faintly from within; it seemed that Lex was still awake.

"Good evening, Clark," his host greeted him warmly when he peered into the room. That Lex didn't sound particularly surprised to see him and didn't comment upon the late hour only confirmed Clark's belief that his friend knew – or at least suspected – more about the presumed future Kents' love life than he let on. "Come on in."

With a grateful smile, Clark did as he was bid, making his way over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. Sagging wearily upon it, Clark stretched his leg out in front of him, propping it up on the ottoman that had mysteriously appeared in the Luthor study the day Clark got out of the hospital after his first major surgery as if it had always been a permanent fixture there. Neither he nor Lex had ever commented on its presence or alluded to its purpose, but it had obviously been set up with Clark in mind, as it resided in front of his favorite spot on the sofa and was just the right height for him.

Lex was pouring himself a drink, but when he silently offered to do the same for his guest, Clark shook his head. "Something bothering you, Clark?" Lex asked in concern as he took a seat across from his friend and sipped the amber liquid from the glass in his hand.

Clark sighed in resignation. "I…I don't really know what to do. I've messed everything up, somehow," he confessed, not meeting his friend's eyes. "There's this…this woman I know, and I was hoping…well, it doesn't matter what I was hoping because I've pretty much ruined everything, and she hates me now."

Lex's voice held a trace of wry humor as he said, "For the sake of convenience, why don't we call her Lois?" With a wry smile, Clark nodded, acknowledging that his attempt at disguising the woman's identity had failed miserably. Lex continued, "But I doubt things are really as bad as you think. She and I just met, of course, but it's obvious she cares about you."

Clark scowled. "Not as much as you think." With a heavy sigh, he stared at an invisible spot on Lex's immaculately kept parquet floor and explained, "She doesn't want to be here…in Smallville, I mean. In fact, she's only here because I…I asked her to come. We got in a fight earlier, and…well, like I said, I'm pretty sure she hates me now."

Sitting back, Lex was silent for a while, apparently mulling over his friend's confession. "Did she give you back your ring?" he asked softly. When Clark looked at him in surprise, he asked lightly, "You didn't think I noticed? You know, I always wondered why you had a jeweler duplicate your mother's ring, instead of giving her the genuine article. I always assumed it was for sentimental reasons. It never occurred to me that it was because you'd already given your mother's ring to someone else."

Clark shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his friend's regard. He didn't really know what to say; he didn't want to lie to Lex, but even he couldn't explain why he'd chosen not to give Lana his mother's ring. It just never felt right, somehow. Choosing his words carefully, he replied, "I suppose…even then, it was like it wouldn't be right to give Lana the ring. I can't really explain it, but…when I met Lois, it was like the part of my life before that moment had been spent just waiting for her. Like she and I…like it was meant to be, somehow." His face twisted into a scowl at this confession because, of course, Jor-El had said that destiny _was_ at work between the two of them.

His eyebrows raised curiously, Lex asked, "So how did the two of you meet? I assume it was during the summer you spent in Metropolis, since I'm almost positive I'd have noticed a woman like Lois in town."

Clark should have realized this was coming. Of course Lex would be curious about his so-called "relationship" with Lois, and he would no doubt keep prodding until he got answers. There was nothing to be done about it; the truth was likely going to be fairly liberally stretched. "It was an accident," he admitted with a rueful smile. "She was, uh, headed for a party, but her car broke down. I stopped to help her, and things just went from there, I guess you could say."

His eyes shining with suppressed humor, Lex prompted, "So I take it she never made it to her party."

The thought was painful, but Clark forced a slight chuckle. "No, she never did. We started seeing a lot of each other after that night." At Lex's expectant look, he continued, "Well, you met Lois; I'm sure I don't need to explain how amazing she is. I think I probably started falling in love with her that first night we spent together, and now…it's probably not fair of me to say this, but I don't know how I'm going to live the rest of my life without her."

"Then what happened between you two, if you don't mind me asking?" Lex asked. "Like I said, I can tell she cares about you, and you're obviously crazy about her. So why'd the two of you break up?"

Clark sighed. Talk about a difficult question to answer. "When I'm with her…it's like I'm a different person, somehow. And when she looks at me, I know she's seeing the man I _could_ be, not the one that I am. She loves the man she has in her mind, not me. And I-I know it sounds crazy, but as much as I wish I was that person, I also know that I'm not. From the moment we first met, Lois looked at me like I'm…like I could be a… _her_ hero or something. And I just can't get over the fact that there's really nothing that special about me.

"I'm not a hero, and I doubt I ever could be. I'm just plain old Clark Kent, the town cripple who tries to make it through the day without letting the rest of the world see that I'm not half the man I used to be."

A pained silence followed his confession, but Lex broke it when he leaned forward with a sigh. "Clark, if you're looking for somebody to tell you that you're not a hero, perhaps you should start with someone whose life you haven't saved. Assuming, of course, that you can find one of those in the area." Clark threw him a skeptical look and was about to protest when Lex cut him off, "Even you have to admit that risking your life to save the spoiled rich kid who almost ran you over from drowning is pretty heroic."

"Lex, I just did what anyone would have done in my shoes. And you aren't a bad guy, you know," he argued, a bit irritably. He remembered the years that Lex had spent investigating him, simply due to that one day's actions. In fact, Lex's insatiable curiosity had only been satisfied on that issue when Clark was crippled, and he didn't want to open that door again. Besides, whatever Lex thought now, Clark had still had his abilities back then, so his actions had hardly been a risk to his life.

"I think the idea that many people would have risked their life for a complete stranger is arguable, but, then again, we've had that discussion before. And besides, whether you think I'm a good man now doesn't matter. You didn't know anything about me when you pulled me out of that water. I doubt you even stopped to wonder about the type of man you were saving when you jumped in after me."

Clark sighed. He'd really been counting on Lex to understand why he felt the way he did, but even his best friend seemed unwilling to oblige. "Okay, but that incident aside, let's face it, Lex. I'm hardly the first person who comes to mind when you think of heroes. So maybe there are a few instances when I was in the right place at the right time. That makes me lucky, not a hero. There's a big difference between saving one person when it's obvious they need help and…I don't know, taking a stand and saving the world."

"Not really," Lex argued, setting his empty glass aside. "Okay, look," he continued in the face of Clark's obvious skepticism, "I know that you've saved my life more than once, and I know your accident was the result of you trying to race to a fire to see if there was anything you could do to help, even though the fire department was already on the way. I know that when your friends need you, you drop everything else and rush to be there for them. I know that, even though you've never admitted this to anyone, you gave up the life you had in Metropolis and moved back to Smallville in order to be with your father when he needed you. And I also know for a fact that, even with your leg, you still stop to help stranded motorists who need someone to push their car out of a ditch or change a tire.

"Heroism isn't marked by some big decision we make once in the course of our lifetime, Clark; it's marked by the small ones we make every day. In your own way, you do everything you can to help the people around you. On a global scale, that might not mean much, but it's pretty damn heroic to the people you help every day."

Clark was truly dumbstruck, and he didn't know how to reply for a long while. He still didn't think of himself as a hero, but maybe there was more than a grain of truth in Lex's last statement. Wasn't that essentially what Lois said that her Superman did? He probably didn't get out of bed every morning with the intention of saving the world; he just did whatever he could to provide assistance whenever it was needed.

While Clark was still lost in thought, Lex stood and stretched. "Anyway, it's pretty late, and I'm heading to bed. Your room is already made up for you, and, as usual, if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. Good night, Clark." Though Lex was not usually the type to head to bed before his guests, it was another tradition that the two of them shared. Clark still remembered the humiliation he had felt the first night he'd spent at the Luthor Mansion after his accident, when Lex was right behind him as he tried to navigate the stairs – a chore that took even longer back then it did now. Lex had obviously picked up on his embarrassment and ensured his friend would never be subjected to such discomfort again, at least so far as it was possible for him to avoid.

"Good night, Lex," Clark replied distractedly, following his host upstairs after a few minutes.

Sleep eluded him as he lay in bed that night, staring blindly at the ceiling above. As he lay there, however, he conceded that he'd been lying when he'd said he wished he'd never met Lois Lane. Oh, certainly, he mourned for the life that had been lost to him before he'd even had the chance to see what it would have been like. He wished he could find the contentment he'd tried so hard to achieve in the life he'd built for himself. But he was going to miss Lois when she was gone, and as much as he wished he could blame her for his problems, he knew it would be unfair of him to do so. After all, if he'd truly been happy in the life he lead, he never would have unintentionally dragged her into it.

Though a huge part of him wanted to hold tight to the dream of what they should have been, he knew he couldn't do that any longer. He'd lost his chance with her long ago; he had no right to keep her here now just because he'd been given a chance to see what might have been.

His heart heavy in his chest, Clark tucked an arm behind his head and breathed a deep sigh. Though it was, in many respects, the last thing he wanted, he knew what he had to do. He'd held on to Lois for long enough; it was well past time he accepted that she would never belong to him.

He had to let her go.


	25. Goodbyes

Lois managed to stay in bed until the first rays of dawn filtered through the bedroom window. As soon as the sky lightened, however, she slowly crawled out of bed and took a quick glance around. She didn't want to leave any of the few precious belongings she had with her behind; when she left the farm this day, she didn't intend to come back.

She'd thought about it a lot as she'd lain awake the night before, and she'd come to terms with the fact that she couldn't get back home – at least as much as she was able to accept that thought. However, at some point during the endless evening, she'd come up with a plan. It wasn't her best plan, certainly. Usually, she liked her schemes to have happy endings. Still, it was the best one she had.

She was leaving. She was leaving Smallville, leaving the Kents…leaving everything she knew and loved behind. It would just be too painful to stay, to see the reminders every day of the happiness and love that would never again be hers.

Of course, she had no idea where she was going to go. Maybe she'd leave the country…but then again, how was she going to manage that, without her passport? Well, at the very least, she could get the heck out of Kansas. She'd heard that Gotham was lovely this time of year. She had her car; she could camp out in the backseat until she saved up enough money to rent a hole in the wall to call her own. Maybe she'd get a job slinging hash browns. Or coffee. Or muffins. Really, it didn't matter what she chose, since anything she did would be a far cry from the career she so loved. It was going to be hard to turn her back on being a reporter, but even if she did have the energy to rebuild a reputation from scratch, she found she lacked the desire to pursue a story without her partner by her side.

Lois had to repress the urge to cry at the thought. How was it possible that she could even have the desire, she wondered, after all the sobbing she'd done? As it was, she had a headache that hadn't diminished in the slightest overnight. With one last resigned sigh, she shouldered her bag and trudged toward the bedroom door, walking through it for the last time.

When she got downstairs, she was unsurprised to see the elder Kents sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee as they prepared for the day ahead. Martha was practically radiating maternal concern; she would have to have been blind not to have noticed the dark circles under Lois's eyes. Even Jonathan looked worried, and he clearly didn't know what to do with himself.

Though it would have been easier to sneak out the backdoor without having to subject herself to a tearful goodbye, Lois found that she was glad to see the Kents there. They were the parents she'd always wished she had, even if they weren't the people she knew; though it would have been easier, there would have been no way she could have left without saying anything. As it was, she sincerely doubted they'd understand why she had to go.

When she'd come up with this not-so-cunning plan the night before, she'd considered staying in contact, but deep inside, she'd known it would be better to make a clean break. If she called or in any other way corresponded with Martha and Jonathan, she'd find it almost impossible not to ask after Clark. She'd think about him, wonder how he was doing. She'd want to see him, if only just to have five minutes to pretend.

And that just wouldn't do. If she was ever going to gather together all the pieces of her broken heart, she'd only manage to do it by forgetting about the man she loved – and his doppelganger. It had happened against her better judgment, but she knew that she'd actually come to care about him in the last couple of days – even if it wasn't in nearly same degree that she loved her Clark.

There was no point in making the job of moving on with her so-called life even more impossible. She had to let all of the Kents go. Squaring her shoulders in newfound resolve, Lois dropped her bag by her feet and waited for the volley of questions she knew was coming.

"Lois…you're leaving?" Martha asked, glancing at the bag, and Lois nodded. "Honey, you know you don't have to do that. You're welcome to stay here as long as you…until you find a way to get home."

Moving to the table, Lois lowered herself gingerly into a seat and took a deep breath. She'd had a whole speech prepared, everything she wanted to say. She'd rehearsed it in her mind a thousand times, but now that the moment to give it had arrived, she couldn't remember a single sentence. "I want to thank you both for everything you've done for me. I mean, considering the way I just showed up here and started talking like a lunatic, you must have both thought I was completely insane, but you still went out of your way to help me, even though you didn't have to. Anyway, I…" Her words failed her. How could she tell the couple in front of her how much they meant to her? How could she tell them how much she was going to miss them both?

She couldn't; she couldn't even try. "I'm going away for a while. Maybe for good; I don't know. I suppose I might come back eventually, but right now…I need to get as far away from here as possible. Last night…well, it became pretty clear that I'm never getting back to my world, at least not unless I do something I just can't do. So, I thought about it, and I decided that if I can only get far enough away from Smallville, there's a _chance_ I might somehow forget that I…I might somehow forget," she finished lamely. Of course, there really _wasn't_ much of a chance of that happening, and Lois knew that better than anybody. Still, a slim chance was better than none, and that would be the odds of her ever moving on if she agreed to stay.

"Lois, I don't understand," Jonathan objected, capturing her gaze with his own. He was no doubt about to present a well-reasoned argument about why she shouldn't go, and she couldn't afford even the temptation. Her resolve was wavering enough. She had to do this; it would only be more painful in the long run if she let him dissuade her now.

Before he could continue, she forestalled his comment by saying, "I can't explain. I know this doesn't make any sense to either of you, but please understand, this is what I have to do." Something in her expression must have convinced them of her sincerity, as they rose reluctantly to their feet when she stood. Stepping forward, she hugged both the Kents tightly, holding on for a moment longer than she'd intended as she savored what would no doubt be the last time she would be able to do so. When she finally pulled away, tears she didn't dare shed filled her eyes.

Resting his hands on her shoulders, Jonathan looked intently into her face and said, "I know there's no way we can stop you, but I hope you realize that you're always welcome here. If you ever decide to make your way back to us, our front door is always open to you."

"That's right," Martha interjected, wrapping her arms around the younger girl and pulling her in for another tight hug. "You can come back any time you want, sweetheart, and I'm sure I speak for Jonathan when I say that we…well, we care about you, Lois. In the past couple of days, it feels like you've practically become a member of the family."

It was too much for her to bear, and Lois felt the tears begin to fall. Though she hated crying, she'd never been quite as bothered at the idea of showing such weakness in front of this couple as she was with almost anyone else in the world. "You have no idea how much that means to me," she replied honestly.

Then, before their kindness could weaken her resolve, she walked over to pick up her bag once more and headed towards the door. Before she left, however, she paused and looked at her companions over her shoulder. Offering them a watery smile, she engraved the image of the two of them indelibly in her memory. She knew there was a seemingly endless series of long nights ahead of her; while she couldn't risk actually contacting them, she could at least treasure this last memory of them both. "Mr. Kent, I know…well, I just wanted to say thank you for…for everything." If it weren't for the crushing sorrow she felt at what she'd lost, it would almost have been worth the trip, just to have had the chance to talk to him one final time.

Without another word, Lois left the Kent Farm for what she imagined would be the last time. She didn't have any particular destination in mind as she got into her car and pulled away from the house; she figured she'd just drive until she couldn't go any further. However, before she headed out of town, she knew there was one more stop she had to make. When they'd been looking over the map together, Chloe had told Lois about the house her father had bought when the two of them moved to Smallville, and it was to this house that Lois directed the car; she had to tell Chloe goodbye.

Everything was silent as Lois pulled up in front of the house number she'd been given and killed the engine. It was still early; she wouldn't be surprised to find that everyone was still in bed. Still, she had to get this over and done with. She was afraid that if she waited, she'd lose all of her courage and never be able to go. So there was no hope for it; she'd have to sneak into the house, find her cousin's room, say goodbye, and get out again before the rest of the house awoke and she was caught.

Walking slowly up the walk, Lois paused at the door and looked around reflectively. If this version of her Uncle Gabe was anything like the man she knew – and she had no reason to suspect he wasn't – he had a key hidden somewhere nearby in case of emergencies. Stooping, she conducted a quick search under the various knickknacks on the porch.

The object of her search was found under a flowerpot filled with dead flowers that stood in the corner of the porch, and Lois pulled it out with a soft cry of triumph. After taking one last moment to ensure she had her composure – and her resolve – under control, she let herself into the house and began to creep quietly to the staircase leading to the upper story. Undoubtedly, Chloe's bedroom (or perhaps the guest bedroom) could be found on the upper floor.

Her foot had just hit the bottom step when she heard someone cough softly in the room on her left. With her heart in her throat, she turned and crept silently to the doorway so she could peer inside the room she quickly recognized as the kitchen.

An elderly looking man sat at the breakfast table, his shoulders stooped as if they had grown too accustomed to carrying the weight of the world. He looked far older than his years – a tired man, broken shell of a man, who wore the years heavily in a hundred deep lines on his face. It was with a combination of surprise and sorrow that Lois realized the broken man in front of her was the General.

She wanted to turn away. It would be so easy, she knew, to creep upstairs and do as she had originally intended. She could say goodbye to Chloe now and get out of town with her father none the wiser, but now that she'd seen him, she couldn't just go without saying _something_.

Taking a deep breath, Lois squared her shoulders, unconsciously assuming the military composure that had been drilled into her head for years. Then, with her back ramrod straight and her chin raised at a deceptively confident angle, she strode into the kitchen and stood in front of her father. At a loss for the appropriate thing to say (or even a passably adequate one), she cleared her throat nervously and said, "Good morning, D-General."

She waited with bated breath as his gaze slowly lifted to hers, but he didn't react the way she thought he would. Of course, it wasn't a typical situation – certainly not one that the two of them had ever been in before – but she would have anticipated some sort of explosion. At the very least, she'd anticipated an emotional accusation.

Instead, he heaved a heavy sigh and said thoughtfully, "You know, it's not exactly a secret that people have thought it was crazy for me to hold on to the hope that you'd someday come home to me, Lo. Even yesterday, I know what Gabe thought when I swore I'd seen you in town, and I can't blame him for worrying about me. It is, however, a little disconcerting to see that his concern might not have been misplaced."

He said it so calmly, Lois winced. "I'm not a hallucination, sir," she said firmly as she took a seat across from him at the table. She wanted to reach out and grab the hand that rested on the table next to his coffee cup, but she didn't dare. Even in her own world, the General had a certain untouchable air about him; he never seemed to truly need anybody, least of all her. To try to comfort the man in front of her would feel like an intrusion. She'd always felt that her father was something of a stranger to her; this man was positively alien. "I know this is going to sound crazy, sir, but it really is me. It's Lois."

He still stared at her with that unfazed expression on his face. "I almost forgot that it was always "General" or "sir" with you. Even when you were little, you almost never called me anything else."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them as he took a sip of his coffee, gazing contemplatively into his cup. Finally, when she couldn't take it any longer, Lois said firmly, "Look, I know this is going to be hard for you to understand, but I swear you're not crazy. It's me, only…well, it's complicated."

As she tried to find the words to explain an inexplicable situation, the General's gaze lifted to her face again, where he stared intently at her as if trying to memorize every nuance of her features. "It's strange…you're not the little girl I remember, Lo. I don't remember you ever being this…self-assured."

With a deep breath, she explained gently, "I grew up, sir."

"My daughter didn't," he replied sadly as his gaze fell to the tabletop again.

Lois winced, because of course he was right, but there was nothing she could do about that now. She had to find a way to get through to him. "Sir…Dad…I know this is going to sound incredible, but I really am your daughter. Sort of. And I know how hard this is going to be to believe, but I'm actually from another reality. It was something of an accident, me coming here."

With another deep breath, she braced herself and began to explain. She told him everything, starting with how she'd come to this other world (though she left out the reason why. It was going to be hard enough to convince him that she was both real and telling the truth; it was too much for her to expect him to suddenly begin believing in aliens on top of everything else). Then she told him how she'd come to realize what had happened, how she'd come to discover that she was dead in this world, and how she'd come to believe she was never going to get home.

Finally, at a loss for any other way to convince him of the truth of her words, she told him about the life she had in that other world and the relationship she had with him. It wasn't easy, admitting the two of them had never been close, but it was the truth.

When her tale had come to an end, she sat back and regarded her companion gravely, unconsciously mirroring his body language as she awaited his verdict. Finally, he said, "You realize that's a hell of a story you have there, Lois." At her nod, he raised his eyebrows and asked skeptically, "And you expect me to believe it?"

"Not really," she admitted. "But it's the truth."

"And my little girl really is dead?" he asked, his voice sounding almost pleading. He seemed to be asking something of her, but Lois didn't know what – until she remembered what Chloe had told her once, as they'd stood together at the side of the road. The hardest thing about moving on when someone you love has disappeared isn't dealing with the loss of the person, which is difficult enough to bear. It's the uncertainty that keeps you awake at night and keeps you holding on long after you should have let go – the slim but real possibility that the missing loved one is out there somewhere in the world, that they might come home someday.

"I'm sorry," she replied softly in lieu of an answer, at a loss for what else to say.

The General's gaze skittered away from hers again, and he heaved a heavy sigh as he looked back down at the tabletop. "I didn't want to believe it. For years, I've hoped that everyone was somehow wrong, that you were still alive. Then, when I finally got the call that they'd found your body…I was relieved." His shoulders sagged, and there was a haunted look in his eyes when he looked up at her and repeated in a tortured voice, "I was _relieved_. I finally got to take my little girl home."

Lois had never felt so helpless. She didn't have the first clue what to say to her dad, and she knew all the words in the world couldn't take away his grief. Before she could formulate another inane apology, his mood changed and he glared at her as he demanded, "Why did you do it, Lois? Why did you have to go up on that damn mountain?"

It was a question he'd asked himself countless times over the past decade, she could tell. She wished she had a good excuse, but it was just one of a million risks she'd taken when she was younger, just another one of her many adventures. She'd never stopped to ask herself why she was so hellbent to take such foolish risks; she'd never been the type to overanalyze her motivations for doing anything at all. Then again, she'd never before had to face such a heavy consequence of the choices she'd made.

Clearing her throat, Lois shifted in her chair and replied softly, "Chloe…my Chloe, that is…she told me once about her theory of why I act the way I do. She thought it was because of you. She thought I was always so willing to take risks because I wanted you to see that I could do anything; I wanted to prove to you that I wasn't scared." She gave a short little chuckle as she spoke, as if to discredit the idea. However, her laugh was tremulous at best; in the past, she had wondered if her cousin's words didn't have merit.

"You think you have to prove yourself to me?" he asked, not meeting her eyes as an indecipherable look crossed his face.

"I think I've never been the daughter you wanted," she admitted, saying the words out loud for the first time in her life. Then, unable to handle the silence that stretched between them, she explained, "It's just that I've always been such a disappointment to you. It isn't a mystery that there are so many times I let you down, and you never were exactly silent about the fact that I refused to live up to your expectations."

Her father sighed, and his shoulders sagged suddenly. He looked so old and so frail in that moment, Lois was convinced that a stiff wind would blow him away entirely. Still, there was enough of her father left in his bearing that she stayed where she was and didn't reach out to him, didn't rush to his side.

"I wonder, Lois," he began slowly, "do you remember what it was like, back when your mother was alive?"

Thrown by the question, it took her a moment to reply. "Um…well, not a lot," she replied honestly, confused about the sudden reference. "I mean, I remember some things, of course. Like, I remember that she used to sing when she was working around the house, and I remember the smell of the perfume she used to wear. Stuff like that."

Her father gave a short, jerky nod at her words before speaking again. "When she died…it was just so sudden, really. The cancer took her so quickly, we'd only known she was sick for a couple of months; there just wasn't much time to prepare. And you were so little – Lucy was even younger – I had no idea what to do about these two little girls I'd been left with.

"With Lucy…well, to be honest, there was never really a question of what to do with her. She was still so small, and she needed so much attention. But the two of you were so close, and she looked up to you. I'm sure you don't remember, but she practically worshiped her older sister back then. And you used to watch out for her, even when you were little. Your mother told me once that any time Lucy got scared or was punished for misbehaving, you would curl up in her bed next to her and make up these outlandish stories to make her laugh."

He swallowed heavily, and then he continued, "When Ella died…Lucy took comfort from me, but I wasn't the person she really looked to. She wanted you. And so I suppose it was easy to just leave her in your charge, to let you watch over her the way you always had. But you…you never needed anybody. Certainly not me. You never came to me for comfort after your mother died; even at her funeral, you held Lucy in your arms as the two of you stood by your mom's casket, and you refused to cry.

"You were always so strong and brave…your mother used to laughingly say you'd spit in the Devil's eye if it suited you. Even when you were really little…back when your mother was alive…you were just so…you used to greet me at the door every night with a salute and ask if I was reporting for duty. I'd pick you up and toss you into the air, and when I caught you, you'd steal my cover and put it on your head, even though it was so big, it'd fall down over your eyes and you couldn't possibly have seen under the brim. Still, you'd tilt your head back and give me this grave little look and call yourself Daddy's Little Soldier.

"You weren't like your sister. I honestly can't remember a time when you'd run to me to have me kiss your scraped knees or have me chase away the monsters under the bed. Even when you were a toddler, when you hurt yourself, you got angry. When you were scared, you didn't let it stop you; you just charged ahead and did whatever you wanted to do anyway."

Lois could tell the recollection was painful for the man in front of her, and she felt her composure crack. Leaning forward, she grabbed his hand in hers and squeezed it tight, offering him comfort ten years too late. Her touch seemed to surprise him, and his startled gaze flew to her face once more. "There are so many things I've wanted to tell you in the last decade, Lo, but the biggest one is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I…you were my Little Soldier, and I'm sorry that I forgot you were supposed to be my little girl. My Little Lo. I should never have let you go up on that mountain alone, Lois. It just honestly never occurred to me…you were so strong and brave, so fearless, it somehow seemed impossible that there was anything you couldn't handle, that you could ever be taken away from me."

Lois jumped to her feet and scooted quickly around the table, stooping to wrap her arms around her father in a tight hug. "Daddy, I'm so sorry," she whispered, but before she could continue, a sound in the doorway caught her attention. She turned to see Chloe staring at the both of them with wide eyes.

"G-Good morning, Uncle Sam…um…Lois," she greeted them after clearing her throat awkwardly. As Lois straightened slowly with a welcoming smile, Chloe took a tentative step into the room and lowered herself into one of the chairs. Casting an anxious look between the two Lanes, she asked, "Lois…what are you doing here?"

Lois took a deep breath. It was time for her to bite the bullet and confess. "I've come to say goodbye, Chlo," she admitted, taking a step back from the table. "I've decided it's time for me to leave Smallville."

Her news was received about as well as she thought it would be, and Lois spent the next half hour trying to explain to her cousin why she had to – and why she had to go alone. It wasn't, in the end, that she didn't want Chloe's company or want to have the younger girl around. It was simply that Lois had an "all or nothing" type of personality. She wanted her entire life back, or she could stand to have none of it.

And besides, she didn't dare have anyone she'd known in her own world around in this one. She hadn't been lying when she confessed to the General that she'd always felt, growing up, that he was trying to turn her into something she wasn't. If she spent too much time with these alternate versions of Clark and Chloe (and even possibly the elder Kents and, for all she knew, Lex), it would probably be impossible to resist the urge – conscious or otherwise – to turn them into the people she knew. She might even have the best of intentions, but she could see herself trying to nudge Chloe into journalism, knowing how much the cousin she'd grown up with loved the profession. It wasn't a far stretch to believe that her continued reservations about Lex could have a Pygmalion effect on the man himself. And Clark…she couldn't even think about Clark.

"You could come back to the base with me," the General interjected finally into Lois's empassioned argument.

She winced and turned slowly to face him. "I-I'm sorry, Daddy, but I can't." The appellation, used without thinking on her part, caused him to flinch, and she bit her lip and chose her words more carefully when she continued, "I know that this must be…I can't even imagine how hard these last ten years must have been for all of you – let alone the last couple of hours – but you have to understand…regardless of how it all seems, I'm not really your daughter. I'm…it's just not the _same_ , and I can't take her place now."

Before another objection could be made, Lois swept Chloe into a tight hug, knowing this would be the last time she allowed herself to do so. When she felt the younger woman start to shake, she whispered, "I'm so sorry, sweetie; you know that I would stay if I could." Pulling away slightly, she swept Chloe's hair off her forehead and murmured, "She would have been so proud of you, you know."

Chloe gave her a watery smile and stepped out of her arms, straightening her spine as she squared her shoulders, unconsciously mimicking the body language Lois had seen in the mirror many times. On a deep breath, she said, "You shouldn't give up on your own world, Lois."

Wincing, Lois replied, "I know, Chlo, but believe me when I say that it's impossible…"

Cutting her off, Chloe scoffed, "Impossible? For you, Lois Lane, the strongest girl I've ever known? I find it difficult to believe there's anything you can't do." There had been a hint of teasing in her tone, lightening the reproof in her words, but all trace of humor left her voice when she grabbed Lois's hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "When we were kids, I always thought you could do anything you put your mind to. I'm not about to change my mind on that now."

Lois felt a ghost of a smile curve her lips as she said goodbye one more time, but she took a step back and turned away. She appreciated her cousin's efforts, but deep down, she knew they were in vain. She didn't know how she could be so certain of it, but she was: the only person who could send her home was Clark Kent, and it had become painfully clear the night before that he was never going to do that.

When she stooped and grabbed her bag, she felt a presence to her left and, tilting her head, she looked up to see her father standing next to her. "At least let me walk you out," he said softly as she straightened, and she gave a gently nod to her head in response. Though she knew prolonging the moment would only make it hurt more for the both of them, she found she couldn't deny this man's request. After all he'd been through, she at least owed him the chance to say goodbye one final time.

They were almost to her car before he spoke again. "I can tell that I'm not going to be able to change your mind, but are you going to be okay? Do you…do you need money or anything?"

Dropping her bag to the ground beside her when she reached the driver's side door, Lois rested a hand on the hood of her car and turned to him with a forced smile. "I'll be fine, sir, but thank you anyway. If there's one thing you can be sure my father taught me over the years, it's how to take care of myself."

In response, the General smiled gently and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but when he finally pulled away, he stared intently at her face. The expression on his own was cryptic when he commented sincerely, "You really aren't the same little girl I knew, Lo." Unsure of how to take that, Lois opened her mouth and was about to ask him what he meant, but he didn't wait for the question to formulate on her lips. Grabbing the hand she had placed on the hood of her car, he ran his thumb over the engagement ring she wore and said softly, "The little girl I knew never would have walked away." His tone lacked the censure she had grown to expect from him over the years, but she felt the sting of his words anyway.

Snatching her hand out of his, she snapped, "I thought as a good General you would understand. Sometimes, when faced with an unwinnable battle, the only option left to you is a full retreat."

"Of course," he said agreeably. "If it honestly can't be won, but make sure you're not making the mistake of being too quick to declare a loss when you've really suffered nothing more than a minor setback on the battlefield. Sometimes, all in takes is a different strategy…and trusting the man in the trench next to you."

Bristling, Lois gritted her teeth, barely maintaining her composure. "This isn't about me, sir; it isn't my call to make. It's about Clark, and you don't know him like I do." It was, she realized a bit belatedly, an absurd statement, since this General had never met Clark at all.

"No. That's true," he agreed as he took a step back. His apparent concession took her by surprise, so, though she now had sufficient room to get into her car, she didn't yet make a move to do so. In fact, he waited until she'd finally snapped out of her stupor and put her hand on the latch before speaking again. "Do _you_ really know Clark?"

Lois whirled on him, ready to attack. "How could you ask me that? You don't know a thing about him – or me – so don't presume to judge what you don't understand!"

The General waited until she'd finished, and then he said firmly, "Lois, you're not the little girl I knew, but you're not all that different, either. It wasn't an hour ago that you told me about the man you're supposed to marry. Are these two men really so different?" Lois swallowed heavily, taken by surprise, and he didn't wait for her to gather her thoughts before he continued. Looking down at her ring, he asked, "Would _he_ be able to let you go?"

"Y-yes!" she cried, though her stammer betrayed a bit more uncertainty than she would have liked. Trying for a bit more conviction, she said in a firmer tone, "If he thought it was for the best…if he genuinely thought it would make me happy if he let me go, he would." On that, at least, she was certain.

His eyebrows arched in mild disbelief, her father was merciless. She'd almost forgotten how ruthless he could be. "But, from what I understand from what you told me earlier, it takes more than that. The man you love…would he ever really _want_ to let you go?"

"He…I…" Lois stammered, but she couldn't form an intelligible response. If the situation _were_ different, would her Clark ever manage to want to let her go? She hoped not, truth be told; she could deal with the fact that, considering her propensity for putting her life in danger, there was a chance he might someday have to live without her. She would never accept the possibility that he would ever want to.

"If the situation were reversed, would _you_ be able to let go of him?" he prodded, twisting the knife.

Clearing her throat, she shifted her weight and seriously considered the question. Would she ever be able to let her Clark go? No; in all honesty, she didn't know that she could. But, then again, she'd long ago accepted the fact that her fiancé was a better person than she.

Still, she had to bear in mind that the situation wasn't that easy, it wasn't black and white. "Clark is…" she paused, her throat tightening. "Clark is the best thing that ever happened to me and loving him has…I love him more than I've ever loved anybody, and his happiness is more important to me than anything else in the world. If walking away from him is what it would take to make him happy…I would let him go. But this Clark…"

"He doesn't love you," her father finished with a wry smile.

"No. He doesn't," she confirmed.

A long silence stretched between them, each person lost in thought. Her father finally broke it by reminding her, "Just because he doesn't love you doesn't mean he's never going to want what's best for you." At her desperate look, he reached to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "Just…take it from an old soldier, Lo. Sometimes it's hard to let go, even when you know it's best."

Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across her cheek in a gentle kiss. "And now it's time for me to let you go, baby. I've held on to you long enough, and…you really aren't my little girl, are you?" With a smile warmer than any she'd seen before, he stepped back and said, "Oh, and cut your father some slack, Lo. He may not be the best at showing it, but he really does love you and, regardless of what you might think, I guarantee you he couldn't be happier about the woman you've become."

Turning on his heel, he took a step away, but then he halted and whirled on her. "And, sweetheart, you have _never_ been a disappointment to me."

Darting forward, Lois threw her arms around the father she'd never really had the chance to get to know and hugged him tight. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered as she kissed his cheek and let him go. Then, taking a deep breath and without looking back, she got into her car and drove away.

Though she didn't really intend to do so, she found herself steering the car in the direction of the Kent Farm. Maybe her father had been right; maybe she'd been too quick to walk away – though she'd never been accused of letting things go too easily before. Still, while the Clark Kent she'd come to know in the last few days wasn't the man she loved, he was a good man nevertheless. Maybe, if she just talked to him, she could somehow convince him…maybe together, they could maybe find a way to send her home.

When she pulled up in front of the farmhouse, however, she was disappointed (if not entirely surprised) to see no trace of Clark's truck. She thought about heading into the house, but she needed some time to think, so she crossed to the barn and made her way into his childhood Fortress of Solitude instead. Dropping her bag onto the couch, she crossed over to the window and stared contemplatively out into the early morning sky.

Standing there, lost in thought, she lost track of time, as well, so she had no idea how much had passed before her reverie was broken. At the sound of Clark clearing his throat nervously, she turned to him with a wary look.

Neither of them spoke for a while, and then Clark glanced at her rather conspicuously placed bag. Before he could ask, she explained, "I was going to leave." She watched as his face fell, his expression making it clear he was wounded by her admission, and she resisted the urge to move to his side. Instead, she shrugged and continued, "I haven't decided yet that I won't, if you want to know the truth; I'm still thinking about it."

Taking a few steps towards her, Clark apparently decided this wasn't a subject he was willing yet to broach, as he looked at her earnestly and said, "Lois…I owe you an apology for what happened yesterday. I'm sorry I wasn't able to send you home."

Wincing, Lois offered him a wry smile and said, "You're not the only one who needs to apologize, Clark. I…I shouldn't have attacked you the way I did." Giving his leg a worried glance, she asked anxiously, "Are you okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"

With a reassuring smile, he said, "I'm fine, really…and I probably deserved it, anyway."

Another long, uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Lois watched as all traces of humor slowly drained from his expression. Looking more determined than he had in the time she had known him thus far, he strode forward to stand by her side and stared intently into her face. Then, with a deep breath, he said, "Lois, I'm sorry. I know I had no right to try to keep you here with me, but, I…I'm ready to send you back now." Without taking his eyes from hers, he leaned over to grab something off a shelf, and when he unwrapped the bundle in his hand, she saw a crystal from his Kryptonian structure – no doubt the one he'd unknowingly wished on to bring her to this world in the first place.

"How…how do you know it'll work?" she asked, her breath catching in her throat. She wanted more than anything to believe him, but how could she?

"It'll work," he replied, and his implacable tone made it impossible not to believe. After a pause, he continued in a gentler tone, "I'm going to miss you, Lois. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I care about you. More than you'll ever know. And I wish…I wish I could be the type of man you deserve. But I can't, and I realized last night that, as much as I want to have you in my life, I…I want you to be happy more."

For once, words failed her, so she rested her hand on his arm and, instead of dealing with the implication of his statement, she asked instead, "What are you going to do now? Will you…ah…" She didn't really want to finish the question; she was afraid of the answer. Lois knew better than most how much it tore up a person inside to think that they'd never be quite good enough, never quite live up to expectations. Much as she wanted to go home, she didn't think she could live with herself if she had caused that same inner turmoil in someone else.

Of course, he knew what he was asking her, and so he replied anyway, "Become Superman? I…I don't know. I'm thinking about it, but I'm still not sure that what I am is enough for me to be responsible for the whole world."

"You're a good man, Clark Kent," she told him reassuringly, hating the remnants of self-doubt she saw in his eyes.

A wry smile greeted her words, and he replied, "But I don't have the strength it takes to really be a hero. I don't have you." Her initial response was to argue against of the role she played in Superman's life, but if the last few days had shown her anything, it was that her destiny was more intertwined with Clark's than she ever would have thought. Maybe the assertion that her Clark wouldn't be the same man if he'd never met her had more merit than she ever would have thought.

"Does he know how lucky he is?" Clark asked abruptly, heedless of her internal struggle. She didn't reply, but he didn't seem to need her to; her answer must have been evident in the expression on her face. Lois caught her breath when he lifted his hand, his fingers trembling as though he wanted nothing more than to touch her, but then he paused and dropped his hand to his side once more. "I'm glad," he said simply with a bittersweet smile.

Lois didn't know what to do. She'd known the inevitability of one of them being hurt in the end, but that didn't mean that she didn't hate that she'd caused him such sorrow. Before she could think of a way to assuage his pain, however, he bowed his head, breaking eye contact. Speaking almost too softly for her to hear, he didn't look up at her as he asked, "Lois, if…if things had been different…do you think…?"

Lois reached up to caress his cheek, waiting until he looked up her from under the fringe of his bangs to reply. It would have been easy for her to give him the answer she knew he wanted to hear, but, after everything they'd been through in the last couple of days, he deserved the truth. So she took a moment and really thought about the question she knew he was trying to ask.

If her heart hadn't been given away a long time ago, would it have been so difficult to fall in love with him? It was hard to put aside her anger at his culpability in putting her in this untenable situation, but once she'd managed to do so, she considered the man in front of her as dispassionately as possible.

Her comments from the night before – that there had been more than a hint of cowardice in some of the decisions he'd made in his life – still held true, in her mind. She firmly believed that fear had been the true motivation for him to give up his powers, and she wouldn't have been surprised to find that a similar fear had fueled his subsequent internal debate about whether he should quit playing the game he loved so much, before his accident had taken the decision out of his hands.

Still, with all that, she couldn't deny that there was something remarkable about him. She thought about the way he had offered unconditional support and assistance from the very moment they'd met. Certainly, he'd asked her if she might love him some day, but he hadn't demanded it – or anything else – of her. Instead, though her presence had to be a constant reminder of his own apparent insufficiencies, he had stood by her side and done his best to help her in whatever way he could – even going so far as to accompany her to a confrontation she knew he would have done anything to avoid for both physical and personal reasons.

There was little doubt that he had been a better friend to her than she had been to him, but his attitude towards her wasn't the only admirable thing about him. She had seen him interact with several people during her time in this version of Smallville, and it was obvious that he embodied the same kindness and compassion that had caused her to fall in love with her fiancé in the first place.

Perhaps, it could be argued, this Clark's loyalty, his willingness to always find the best in people, was even more pronounced than in the man she loved. After all, she knew better than anyone the self-doubt her Clark felt about his role in forming the man who had become his arch-nemesis. Though there was sufficient evidence, in her world, that Lex Luthor chose the path to an inner darkness that had eventually consumed him, Clark could not help but wonder what part his unwillingness to give his former friend another chance had played in the man he had become.

She saw so much of the man she loved in the man before her; it wasn't difficult at all to imagine that, in another world, in another life, he would have easily stolen her heart.  
With all of his faults (and, considering she was hardly perfect herself, she had probably been rather harsher at cataloging them than she'd needed to be), he was a remarkable man. He simply wasn't hers.

In the silence that had fallen while she had been distracted by self-contemplation, Clark's expression had turned from anxious to sad, and now it bordered on tortured. Taking a deep breath, Lois stroked the pads of her thumbs gently across his cheeks and whispered, "No, Clark. I don't think it would have taken very much at all for me to fall in love with you."

The shadows were dark in his eyes when he straightened and looked down for her, and Lois leaned forward and brushed her lips against Clark's in a soft kiss – the first and last the two of them would share. It was a kiss filled with gratitude, with unrealized possibilities, with the hint of a destiny unfulfilled. Mostly, however, it was a kiss goodbye.

Pulling back from him, she turned to see the familiar white light spill over the horizon, heading in her direction. He had actually done it. Though she knew it was the last thing he would have wished for, he had actually let her go. Looking back at him over her shoulder, her eyes wet with tears, she couldn't restrain her laugh of pure joy or the exultant smile – the first real smile she'd had for days. She wanted to thank him for everything he'd been and everything he'd done for her in the last few days, but there simply wasn't time. So, as the light washed over her, she closed her eyes against its brightness and whispered, "Thank you…Superman."


	26. Epilogue: Heartbeats

When the light faded, Lois found herself still standing in the middle of Clark's loft. Nothing appeared to have changed in the world around her, and she certainly didn't feel like she'd just taken a multi-dimensional trip. Of course, she hadn't before either, had she? Still, she was not encouraged when she turned and saw that her bag was still resting where it had been thrown on the couch. The only difference in the tableau, in fact, was that Clark was nowhere to be seen.

Spinning on her heel, Lois hurtled down the steps to the ground below, almost tripping over her feet in her haste to get outside. She had to find Clark as soon as possible. She'd had to endure endless days without him; she didn't think she could wait another minute to have him in her arms.

When she came bursting through the door, she saw Martha Kent walking up the path to the porch, a bag of groceries in her arms, and Lois stumbled to a halt as a new, horrifying thought occurred to her. What if she hadn't really been sent home, after all? Maybe the universe wasn't through playing its cruel joke and had sent her to another reality, another Clark in need of his Lois. She didn't think she could bear her disappointment if that was the case.

"Mrs. Kent," she began in a choked voice, her heart racing as she stumbled forward a few feet. The older woman turned at the sound of her name. "Did I…do you know who I am? Do you recognize me?" she asked, holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

"Lois, is that really –?" Martha began, the bag of groceries falling to the ground. Lois didn't hear any more. She felt a sudden breeze, saw a blur out of the corner of her eye, and then, in a move too quick for her brain to process, she found herself enveloped in a warm embrace. Strong arms wrapped around her, trembling slightly as they held her tight while she heard the harsh rasping of someone's ragged breath in her ear.

"Lois…oh my god, Lois…" It was Clark's voice in her ear, and she buried her face in the curve of his neck, almost sobbing with relief. As she clutched onto him and held him tight, she felt the beat of his heart, racing in time with her own. She was home; she'd finally made it home. Hadn't she?

With a cry of alarm, Lois put her hands on his chest and shoved him back as hard as she could. Of course, to the man who was secretly Superman, this would have no real effect, but she supposed Clark was surprised enough by her sudden movement that he let her go.

Staggering a few steps backwards, Lois caught her breath as her eyes searched his face, desperately seeking proof that he was the Clark she'd left behind. For all she knew, he was a Clark who had lost his fiancé (or perhaps his wife, his girlfriend, or his best friend) in a car accident. Much as she hated to admit it, she knew that just because he was happy to see her, it didn't mean he was the same man she'd left behind. And she couldn't live with even the smallest shred of doubt that this Clark was the man she loved; she had to _know_.

"Wait!" she cried as he took a step towards her, and though he did as he was bid, she suspected it was more out of confusion than anything else. He looked so hurt, she wanted to reassure him…but her need to know for certain was greater. "How…how do I know you're really my Clark?" she demanded tremulously, well aware that she probably wasn't making much sense.

It was therefore not much of a shock to her when he asked, clearly wounded by her rejection, "Lois, what do you mean your Clark? I don't understand…"

Lois felt her lower lip begin to tremble, and she knew the tears wouldn't be far behind. She couldn't take this any longer. How much torture was one woman supposed to be able to withstand? "Please," she begged in a broken whisper. "Please, Clark…I'll explain it all later, but for now, please…tell me something only you would know. Tell me…I just need to know that you're really the man I love, because I just c-couldn't…i-if there's any ch-chance…"

Her face crumpled, her dignity not far behind, but she didn't care about that. Clearly, however, Clark did, because he stopped trying to move closer to her for the moment and closed his eyes instead. He pushed the hair off his forehead with shaking fingers, and though she could tell it was taking all his self-control to restrain the urge to pull her into his arms, she didn't move. It still wasn't enough.

"The last night we were…the night before you disappeared, the two of us stayed up late discussing how we were going to get to our honeymoon. You thought I should just fly us both, to save us the hassle, expense, and time of dealing with the airports. I insisted we take a plane, and you demanded to know why I was being so stubborn."

She remembered the story, and she also remembered his retaliation for what he called the pot calling the kettle black. Her cheeks would have burned at the memory, except that she had become lost in his words, wrapped up in the memory. "You wouldn't tell me," she murmured softly, remembering how he'd deflected her questions and distracted her from her purpose.

"It was…that time we flew to Blȕdhaven to cover the riots; do you remember? We'd only been partners for about a year and a half." Lois nodded. She recalled the trip only because it had been a complete disaster from start to finish, but she didn't quite understand his sudden reference to it. "That's the best trip I've ever been on."

"But…but it was _awful_ ," she said, frowning in confusion. When he looked about to object, she interjected, "No! Really! It was! Don't you remember? I mean, what could you possibly have enjoyed? The part where the airline lost our luggage, or the part where I had that bad sushi that first night and was sick for the next two days? Or how about that hotel room we got was so small and cramped, you had to sleep on the floor, which, if memory serves, you described as having the unique aroma of a wet llama?"

Clark winced, but a shaky smile quirked at the corner of his mouth as he said, "Actually, I was referring to the trip back home."

Now Lois was even more confused. "But…but our flight got cancelled due to snow, and we were stuck camping out on the floor of Blȕdhaven International Airport for fifty-two hours until the weather cleared up enough for us to get a flight out!" she protested.

"I know," he told her, slowly bridging the distance between them and wrapping his arms around her once more, and Lois let him as she lost herself in the warmth in his eyes. "But For those two and a half days, you barely left my side…granted, that was mostly because you were too weak by that point to move much at all. But, still, it was the first time I could remember in a long time that the two of us just sat and _talked_. It wasn't that we talked anything particularly important, but it was still just the two of us, and…well, it was the first time that…I got to know you more during those two days than I had the entire previous year and it was just…being there with you, it was perfect."

"Oh, Clark," she breathed as she placed her hands on his shoulders and dug her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, holding on so tight that her knuckles turned white. It was almost impossible to believe this was anyone other than the man she loved, and she was afraid to let him go, afraid somehow she would lose him again. She was going to cry; she knew it. And considering her usual hard-nosed persona, she knew that if she were to do that, it would break some sort of personal record. Not that she gave a damn.

Her breath was still catching in her throat when, moving his hands to her cheeks, Clark brushed her hair off her face and stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. There was a hint of wonder in his voice when he murmured, "I thought…I thought I was crazy. I heard your heartbeat, and I thought…for five days, you've been haunting me, and…I thought I was hearing things. I can't believe…is it really you? Are you really here?"

His question demanded an answer, but she didn't know what to tell him. There was too much, and she wasn't ready. Not yet. So, before he could say another word, before she could lose the last vestiges of her dignity, before she could think too long about all of the people she'd come to see in a different light over the last few days, before her joy at having the man she loved was marred by the memory of the man she'd left behind, she kissed him.

Maybe it was because she hadn't seen him in a few days and had begun to believe she never would again. Maybe it was just the magic of the moment. But this kiss, this embrace that felt so familiar, was also somehow new to her. The way his lips brushed against hers, the taste of his kiss, it felt like their first, and Lois lost herself in it.

When she finally broke away and looked up into his face, she saw that his eyes were wet with tears that mirrored the ones she was about to shed. "You're real," he said in such amazement that bordered on disbelief, it broke her heart.

"I'm real," she replied as she took his hand in hers, for once uncertain of the two of them together. She knew he was waiting for something, and she knew there had to be some way to diffuse the tension that had fallen between them, but she still wasn't sure. She wanted to believe this was the man she loved, but she still wasn't _sure_.

At a loss for what else to do, Lois looked around and realized Martha must have already headed inside, offering the two of them a chance to be alone. So, taking Clark's hand in her own, she nodded towards the house. "I'm sure you…both of you…have a million questions. Let's go inside, and I'll tell you…I'll tell you where I've been."

When Clark escorted her into the kitchen, she saw Martha awaiting them with an anxious look on her face, and she stumbled out of his arms and into his mother's. As the older woman's arms wrapped around her, Lois had to close her eyes against the memory of the last such embrace she'd received from Martha in that very kitchen – and how Jonathan Kent had been standing right next to them both at the time.

"Lois, honey…what happened to you?" Martha asked, breaking the spell as she pulled away, her cheeks wet with tears.

It was a long story, and not one easily told. Looking between Martha's anxious face and her son's, Lois took a deep breath. "Maybe we should sit down," she said, turning to the kitchen table. Or, rather, where the kitchen table _should_ be, but it wasn't there.

"I had…uh…an accident," Clark said sheepishly from behind her, clearly picking up on her surprise as he wrapped his arm around her waist and walked with her into the living room.

When she sat next to Clark on the couch, she grabbed his hand and linked her fingers with his. It wasn't going to be easy to tell them about her last few days, she knew, but she took comfort in having his solid presence by her side. On a deep breath, she looked down at the hand she had in her own and said, "I suppose it all started with the light."

And so her story began. It was three hours in the telling, and those three hours were some of the most difficult ones of her life. It was hard, telling Clark that he had been engaged to Lana in another world. It was harder still, confessing that the patriarch of the Kent family had been alive and well. Still, as painful as her narrative was at times, she did her best to relay events exactly as they had happened; even if she had the inclination to lie to them about what had happened to her, she had become resigned to the fact that, to this family at least, she lacked the ability to do so.

So she told her story in as linear a fashion as possible, though it was peppered with the odd aside and only interrupted by Mrs. Kent's occasional need for clarification (Clark was oddly silent during the telling). Still, while they might have had difficulty coming to terms with the fact of what she had to say, neither of them seemed to doubt the truth of it, as not even once did either of Lois's companions express disbelief in her tale. She supposed she was fortunate, at least, in the fact that the Kents were likely the only people on the planet who could believe her story without evidential proof – but, then again, a family who had discovered and raised an alien child with superhuman powers had a definite advantage in the ability to believe in the so-called "impossible".

"I don't know what convinced him to send be back, in the end," she concluded finally, "but he did. I can hardly believe it myself." Lois saw Clark swallow heavily, and he seemed unable to speak for a moment. Instead, he squeezed her hand jut a little tighter, looking as if he expected her to evaporate in front of his eyes at any moment. Meeting his eyes, she murmured earnestly, "I'm sorry, Clark. I know how scared you both must have been."

There were shadows in his eyes when he replied, "And I can't imagine what it must have been like, to know you'd been taken so far away and not know if you'd ever make it home." As he spoke, he released the hand he held and wrapped his arm around her waist, instead, holding her close. Tucking her head against his chest, she heard the steady, comforting beat of his heart, still somewhat faster than normal, and she squeezed her eyes shut, never wanting this moment to end.

A moment later, however, her eyes flew open again as she heard Martha softly clear her throat and say, "I should probably make a few phone calls; a lot of people have been worried about you, Lois. I'm sure everyone's going to want to see that you're back for themselves, and I don't think the two of you will have much time to yourselves once they begin to arrive, so I'll leave you two alone for now."

Lois jumped to her feet and wrapped her arms around Martha as the older woman rose. "Thank you so much, Mi…Ma…Mom," she finally managed to say.

"Oh, sweetie, it's just good to have you back," Martha replied and captured one of Lois's hands as the younger woman pulled away. Quietly, she murmured, "I'm glad you got to see Jonathan one more time, Lois. I know…there were things you didn't get a chance to say to him."

"He already knew," Lois replied with a slight shake of her head. Though the memory was now accompanied by a sharp stab of guilt that she got those last few days with Jonathan Kent and his family didn't, she still felt a faint sense of wonder when she thought about the conversation she'd had with him in the hospital and all the things he'd said to her. "All those things I wanted to say, he already knew."

"Of course he did, Lois," Clark said as he rose to his feet behind her and rested a light hand on her shoulder. When she turned to look up at him, she could see in his eyes that he was aware of her conflicting emotions, and though she knew the regrets he held over Jonathan's death, he didn't begrudge her the time she alone had spent with his father. "He loved you like a daughter."

Lois thought of the man she'd seen only hours before, with his kind eyes and easy smile, and she knew Clark was telling the truth. Turning to face him, she whispered, "He loved you so both so much, you know." It was the only consolation she could offer the man by her side. "And he was so proud of you. I told him about you, and he said…he said he hoped his Clark could one day be as happy as you and I are together."

She could tell her words had affected him, because he paused and then said softly, "He must have come to care about you a great deal, to have let you go."

Lois knew he was no longer referring to his father, and she offered him a watery smile, not really certain how to reply. "He was a good man, Clark," she finally offered as a response to his unspoken questions. "He was just…lost."

"I know how he felt," Clark murmured, and that haunted look was back in his eyes. "When I thought…I was scared I'd never see you again," he said tremulously as his face contorted with the effort to fight back the force of his emotions.

Lois caressed his cheeks with her fingertips, the tightness in her chest making it impossible to reply for the moment, and wordlessly offered him comfort in whatever way she could. As her lips met his, she felt some of his tension drain away, and she melted into his kiss.

When he finally pulled away, Lois smiled and took his hand, but he still seemed uncertain about something. "Are you sure, Lois?" he asked, stopping her short when she turned toward the stairs, and she remembered the uncertainty she'd felt about the man by her side. It had somehow slowly faded over the last few hours, but, considering how she'd asked him to prove himself upon her return (and everything she'd told him since), she couldn't blame him for needing reassurance. "I-I don't want…I couldn't bear it if you thought there was even a chance I wasn't…"

As she turned to face him once again, Lois looked into his eyes and caught her breath. There it was. Her past. Her present. Her future. And a love that was stronger than anything she'd ever known – stronger than distance, death, or even fate. "I'm sure," she replied with conviction, and a heartbeat later, she was in his arms again.

The shadows were gone from his eyes as he murmured fiercely, "I love you, Lois."

"I love you too, Smallville," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck, and she caught her breath as Clark scooped her into his arms and carried her upstairs. She could barely believe it herself, but she was back where she belonged. In his arms.

Later that night, Lois let out a soft sigh and shifted slightly. Shivering slightly when her movement caused his bare flesh to brush lightly against her own, she flung her leg across Clark's and rested her chin on the arm she had curled atop his chest. With an answering sigh, Clark threw his arm around her waist and tucked her closer against his body, staring down at her with heavy-lidded eyes. "Penny for your thoughts," she murmured softly.

"I was just thinking…I can't imagine what he must have gone through. I can't imagine what it would be like, to have to live my life without you," he replied, idly twirling a lock of hair as if this insignificant act and the feeling of the silky strands between his fingers was further reassurance of her presence. In a similar fashion, she had begun to lazily trace invisible patterns across his bare chest with her fingertips. They acted as though these simple distractions would keep the last few days' demons at bay.

Staring at the patterns she was making, Lois swallowed heavily at the memory of that other Clark and murmured, "Oh…" She didn't know quite what to say.

"I can't imagine ever loving anyone but you," Clark continued. "I just wonder…do you think he'll ever find someone to love as much as I love you?" It was a rhetorical question, which was fortunate, as Lois suspected the only honest answer she could offer would be a tragic one.

Then, just when she was about to shove the memory and the tiny nagging doubt she felt that she'd turned her back on something she should have done in that other world, she thought about the look on the Clark from the other world's face, that last time she'd gazed at him over her shoulder. He looked so resolute, even through his sadness. "I don't…I don't know, Clark," she said, tilting her head so that she could rest her cheek upon his chest, listening to the slow, steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "But, you know, I think he was much stronger than even he realized."

There was such sadness on his face as he stroked his hand down the length of her spine. "You think he'll find happiness some day?" he asked with a quirk of his eyebrows.

"I think it's never a good idea to underestimate Clark Kent," she replied honestly.

In the silence that followed, Lois closed her eyes and breathed deeply, finally letting go of the last of her regret. "It must have been so hard for him to let you go," Clark said finally, and her eyes flew open as she looked up at him. "I can face just about anything in this world, but the thought of letting you go, knowing that I'd have to live the rest of my life without you…? Honestly, I don't know that I could have done it."

Slowly moving up his body so she could capture his lips with hers, Lois murmured fiercely, "Don't. Don't let me go. Don't ever."

Her hair cascaded over his hand as he pulled her closer to him. "Never," he swore against her lips. "I promise." Then, in a soft symphony of shared sighs and low moans, Clark Kent and Lois Lane gave a physical demonstration of how much they loved and how much they had missed each other.

For nearly five days, Lois had seen the life Clark might have lead and the man he might have been, if he'd never met her, and her memories of those few days would always be bittersweet. As she drifted off to sleep, she spared a moment to wonder about the life that other Clark would lead, and she hoped he would find happiness someday. In the darkness, she thought about all the other worlds that might exist out there; might there also be a world in which she had never met Clark Kent? And what would that Lois be like?

Chilled at the thought, Lois shuddered and shifted closer to the man by her side, warmed by his presence. Happily, she was never going to find out. After five days, she was finally where she belonged. She was home.


End file.
